


Immortal Companion

by carolroi (CarolROI)



Series: The Immortal Series [1]
Category: Highlander: The Series, The Sentinel
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-15 18:42:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 66,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2239323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarolROI/pseuds/carolroi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a 2,800 year old immortal moves in across the hall, Blair's life is turned upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jim Ellison pulled his truck into a parking space in back of the loft. An expression of mild irritation crossed his face as he glared at the dark green Jeep Cherokee parked in the space clearly marked "Tenants Only". In his head, he clearly heard his partner's voice chastising him for his uncharitable thoughts. "But Jim, we are getting a new neighbor…" About time too. The noise from the renovation of the living space across the hall from the loft he shared with Blair Sandburg had been driving his heightened senses batty for weeks. First it had been the noise and the dust from the contractors, then the harsh odors of paint and varnish. All the activity had ended a week ago, but there had been no sign of the new occupant. Perhaps they were finally moving in, he decided, giving the owner of the Jeep the benefit of the doubt. 

Cocking his head to one side, he made a quick check of the building, and heard no sound from either the loft or the apartment across the hall. Well, maybe the Jeep was parked illegally. He did find it a little strange that Sandburg wasn't home yet, as it was going on 7pm, but Jim supposed he could have been held up at the university, getting ready for the start of the summer semester.

He was reaching for the key to switch off the ignition when the police radio crackled to life. "All units…robbery in progress at the corner of Prospect and 53rd. Suspect is armed, possible hostage situation." Jim picked up the microphone to respond to the call as he backed the truck out and sped toward the location three blocks away. 

Extending his hearing, he clearly heard a single shot, and his gut clenched in terror. He knew, he just knew his guide was in trouble.

* * *

Blair Sandburg hitched his backpack higher on his shoulder and turned the corner toward the loft. Pushing a strand of sweat dampened hair off his forehead, he scanned the street for his partner's blue and white pickup. Good, Jim wasn't home yet. That gave him plenty of time to head to the grocery for the items he needed for dinner tonight. Heading around the side of the building toward the entrance, he literally ran into a tall woman carrying an armload of boxes.

Both of them grabbed for the tumbling cartons, only succeeding in dumping their contents to the ground. "Ow!" Blair exclaimed, as one particularly large tome landed on his foot.

"I'm so sorry!" the woman apologized as she knelt to pick up the scattered books. "I didn't see you! Are you all right?"

She glanced up at him then, and Blair found himself looking into the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. Jim's eyes were blue, and so were his own, but her eyes were…electric, that was it, electric blue. As he stared, her lips curved and parted in a million-watt smile. "Um yeah, I'm okay," he managed to mumble. Remembering his manners, he bent down to help her. "I'm Blair Sandburg, and if you're moving in, you must be our new neighbor."

The dark haired woman extended her hand across the box she was rapidly filling. "I'm Diandra Pallas. I'm moving into 308."

"Which is right across the hall from Jim and me." He grabbed a couple books and shoved them in a carton. "Do you need any help getting the rest of your stuff upstairs?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I only have a few more boxes in my Cherokee. The movers took care of most of it this morning."

"I'll help you with whatever you have left," Blair volunteered, gathering up his now full box and getting to his feet. He followed Diandra into the building, his eyes taking in the long chocolate hair swept up in a French braid, the white tank top clinging damply to her well muscled back and shoulders, and the trim hips and legs filling out a pair of cutoffs like she had been poured into them. She appeared to be about his age or a few years older. He wondered if she was single. 

On the ride up in the elevator, Blair racked his brain for a topic of conversation more intelligent than asking if this was her first time in Cascade. Glancing down at the top book in the box he was carrying, he grinned. "Hey, I read this book, Daughters of Artemis, a couple of years ago for an undergrad class. I thought it was fascinating."

Diandra raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh really? What class would require you to read a fictionalized account of life among the Greek Amazons?"

Blair felt his cheeks grow hot. This was so not where he'd wanted this conversation to head. "I…um, took a Women's Studies class…and it was one of the required books…."

She was grinning at him now, enjoying watching him squirm. "And you took the class because you thought it would be an easy 'A' and you could meet women?"

Man, she had him pegged. His blush deepened. "Yeah, but it didn't quite work out that way. I had to write more papers for that class than any other that semester, and I found out that a lot of the women in the class were…um,…let's just say they embraced the values that Daughters of Artemis espoused."

She was laughing, a deep, throaty chuckle that made Blair's predicament worse. Now he was embarrassed and turned on. "Is that a polite way of saying they were lesbians?" she asked. 

"Uh, well, not exactly." He was saved from further humiliation by the elevator doors opening. As they walked down the hall to her apartment, he tried changing the subject. "So, is this your first time in Cascade?"

She opened the door and gestured with her head for him to go inside. "Yes, actually it is. I've lived quite a number of different places, but I've found myself spending the majority of it in the Pacific Northwest the last couple of years."

Following her lead, Blair set his box down on a dining room table already covered with cartons and took a look around her apartment. It was twice the size of the loft, having been converted from two apartments into one. The entrance opened into a combination living room/dining area and the kitchen was to the right of the front door, separated from the dining area by a tall counter. A large bookshelf and entertainment center separated the living area from an airy open space in the middle of the loft. It reminded Blair of a dance studio, with a wood floor, and mirrors along one wall, while the opposite wall was lined with French doors leading to a balcony similar to the one in the loft. Large boxes and sheet-covered furniture were jumbled across the open area, but Blair doubted that was their permanent location. A spiral staircase at the opposite end of the studio led to the upper level of the apartment, and he figured the bedroom must be up there. The wall under the upper level had a door at either end, and the expanse of blank wall in between the doors was covered with racks or brackets of different sizes. Idly he wondered what would eventually hang from them.

"Wow, this is so cool. Way bigger than Jim's place," Blair said.

Diandra shrugged. "I still have a lot of work to do, but I should get settled before school starts."

"School?"

She smiled at him and headed back out into the hallway, waiting while he unlocked the door to the loft and dropped his backpack inside. "I'm teaching at Rainier University." 

"Talk about coincidence! I teach there too! Well, actually I'm a teaching fellow. I'm working on my doctorate in anthropology," he said in explanation.

"Guess that explains the interest in Amazons then," she said. 

"Oh, I was interested in Amazons long before I decided to study anthropology. My favorite book as a child was Bullfinch's Mythology." 

They exited the building and headed toward Diandra's jeep. She shot him a grin over her shoulder as she opened the back of the truck. "He got most of the myths wrong, you know, especially the ones about the Amazons. All that stuff about a magic girdle was made up." She handed him a case from the stack in the jeep. 

Blair grabbed the handle, wondering what it held. It was long and narrow, and reminded him of a music instrument case. "So the Amazons' power didn't come from magic. Then how did Hercules defeat them? For that matter, what was with all the Greek heroes taking Amazon queens for their wives?"

"Boy, you ask a lot of questions!" She handed him another case, took two for herself, and headed back toward the apartment. "But I will be happy to answer them. It'll get me back in practice for lecturing. First of all, who says Hercules defeated them?"

Blair stared at her, suddenly tongue-tied. "Uh, everyone…?"

Diandra shook her head, a strand of hair escaping from her braid and flying into her eyes with the motion. She blew it out of the way, and stabbed at the elevator button with her elbow. "Think about it, Blair. What was the position of women in Greek society 2500 years ago?"

He pondered the question for a moment. "Barely more than slaves."

"And what would a society that treated its women as chattel think of a society of entirely self sufficient women warriors? Don't you think that would have rankled quite a bit, especially with the male heads of state? It rankled so much so that their society and exploits were downplayed and down right lied about by the writers of the time. The writers were in the employ of said royalty, royalty who didn't want it wrote down for posterity that their great army was defeated by a bunch of mere women. Same thing goes for the marrying the queen thing. What better way to advertise your machismo and virility than to claim to bed an Amazon?"

"And people say I can lecture at the drop of a hat!" Blair laughed as they exited the elevator.

"Sorry, it's just that the Amazon society is near and dear to my heart. I wrote Daughters of Artemis under a pen name, but it was based on my doctoral thesis, which exploded most if not all of the false myths about their society. Unfortunately, most universities have looked upon my work the way the Greek patriarchal society looked at the Amazons. Rainier is actually one of the first that wants me to teach my 'revisionist' Greek history."

Inside the apartment, Blair followed her across the open floor and stacked his cases on top of hers in front of the wall with the brackets. "You wrote Daughters of Artemis? I read that book at least ten years ago…you were a child prodigy?"

Laughing, she gave him that smile again, the one that made him feel like she was full of secrets she would willingly share if only he could figure out the right questions to ask. "I wear my years well," was her cryptic reply. "Besides, didn't your mother ever tell you it was impolite to ask a woman her age?"

They finished moving the rest of her boxes upstairs, bantering good naturedly about a variety of subjects. When they were through, Diandra dug a couple of tumblers out of a box and offered him a drink of water. Blair accepted, and she poured them both a glass from a bottle she took from the fridge. He couldn't help but notice that the bottled water was the only item in there.

"I guess you haven't had time to get to the grocery yet. There's a little market a couple blocks from here. I have to pick up some stuff myself, and I'd be happy to go with you and show you where it is."

"Great! Let me just grab my wallet and freshen up a little and I'll be right with you," she replied.

"How about I meet you in the hall? I need to grab my list and money too." Seeing her nod in response, Blair bounced across to the loft, unable to contain his delight. What a beautiful, wonderful, fascinating, intelligent woman! And with any luck, Jim would be tied up at work, and he could invite Diandra to dinner. Oh, man, Jim! What if once she met Jim she lost all interest in him? If what she had said about her age was true, she was probably closer to Jim's age than his. "Stop it, Blair, just stop it!" he told himself fiercely. "Jeez, you've just met the woman and already you're planning her role in this soap opera you call your life. It's only a trip to the grocery store for god's sake. Everything has gone perfect up 'til now. Nothing is going to go wrong." Still, he couldn't seem to entirely get rid of the feeling that something momentous, and bad, was about to happen.

* * *

Racing toward the crime scene, Jim focused his hearing outward, straining to hear if his guide was all right, or, please god, not involved at all. What he heard made him press the accelerator closer to the floor.

A woman was speaking, her voice filled with concern. "You're going to be fine, Blair." The sentinel recognized the strangled moan that followed as his guide's. The woman spoke again, strain evident in her voice, "Sorry, Lobo, I know this hurts worse than getting shot…"

A weak "Jim…" followed another groan from Sandburg

"Shhh….It's going to be okay, mi corazon." The woman's voice was a soft whisper, barely audible above Blair's fading heartbeat.

Ellison brought the pickup to a sliding stop in front of the market. A black and white was already parked in front, and he could hear sirens in the distance. Leaping out of the vehicle, he sprinted towards the store acknowledging the uniformed officer's shout of "All clear, ambulance on the way!" with a nod.

The sight just inside the door was a scene from Jim's worst nightmare. His guide was sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood, his eyes wide and staring, an expression of fear and pain etched on his features. A dark-haired woman knelt next to him, her hands over his heart. As she turned her face toward him, Jim had a brief glimpse of her eyes, two brilliant, blue flames, before they rolled back in her head and she pitched forward over Blair in a dead faint. Jim felt himself falling into the long spaces between his guide's heartbeats, helpless to stop the zone out. If Blair died, he didn't want to come back. 

* * *

Dee headed up the spiral staircase to change her clothes. Sighing as she reached the top, she surveyed the bedroom's jumbled contents. There was no way she was going to be able to sleep up here tonight, not with the bed frame in pieces and the mattresses leaning against one wall, effectively blocking the entrance to the bathroom.

Digging through some boxes, she found a pair of jeans and proceeded to change, thinking back over her meeting with Blair Sandburg. What a shock that had been! She should have known, though, that nothing about her life would ever be normal again, after the events of the past two years. But Blair had been a huge surprise in spite of her knowledge that the fates had cursed her to live in "interesting times." When she had looked up at him after he had run into her, Dee had automatically opened up her "other" sight, a habit drilled into her from her youth, and had almost been knocked on her butt. It had been like walking from a pitch-black room out into the desert sun. His soul shone like a beacon, its siren call beckoning her. She had closed her "other" sight then, but she had seen enough to know he was a companion, bound to a champion, though the bond was new, only a couple of years old at most, and nowhere near its potential power. Nor did Dee think he fully understood his own potential. She had picked up on the feeling he thought of himself as a sidekick, an appendage, almost a hindrance, to his champion, rather than an equal.

She tried to remember the last time she had run into a champion/companion pair. It had been in the South Pacific, she knew, but what year? Dee shrugged. It would come to her, it always did. Startled, she sucked in a lungful of air. Her thoughts had sounded just like Lydia then, and despite her best efforts to push the vision away, the image of the tiny, red-haired warrior danced in her mind. She shook her head. She had gone years without thinking about her, and now it seemed like everywhere she turned she was reminded of her. It didn't help matters any that her last student had been the spitting image of the Amazon Queen, and if Diandra hadn't known better she'd have sworn Dana had her soul too. Too bad Lydia's soul was no longer joined to her own; it certainly would have saved her a good deal of heartache if it had been. "Guess it really is until death do us part," she murmured. 

Diandra came back to the present with a start. "Blair must think I fell in a black hole," she said aloud. Tucking a few loose tendrils of hair back in her braid, she was turning to head downstairs when her raincoat lying over the top of a box caught her eye. She debated putting it on for the short trip to the store. Goddess, Blair and the memories he was stirring up really had her rattled; she was forgetting the most important lesson she taught her students, always be prepared.

Shrugging on the long, lightweight duster, she descended the stairs. Pausing in front of the stack of cases Blair had helped her carry up from her car, she selected the top case and opened it. Dee ran her fingers over the smooth, ancient wood of the scabbard, then lifted it out of its velvet resting-place. Drawing the katana from its sheath, she moved through a few passes, before tucking it away in the custom holder inside her trenchcoat. 

She glanced around the apartment again. It would be a long night, trying to get things organized. As she walked out into the hallway, she decided to clean up the studio first, that way, she could work out in the morning, something she hadn't had time for while preparing for the move.

Blair was waiting for her just outside the door marked 307. He gave her attire a curious look.

"It's supposed to rain tonight," Dee said with a shrug.

"And you believe in being prepared?" Blair responded as they entered the elevator.

"Always," she said with a smile.

Reaching the street, they walked at an easy pace down the sidewalk, Diandra noting that he quickly matched his strides to hers, despite their difference in height. "So, you're a grad student. You must be pretty close to getting your doctorate if they're already turning you loose in the classroom."

"Just have to finish up my dissertation and I can put those initials after my name." Blair grinned at her.

Diandra laughed. "Believe me, those initials are over rated. So what's your dissertation subject?"

Blair hesitated, as if pondering whether or not to trust her with the information. She wondered what could be so sensitive about his paper that he wouldn't discuss it.

Finally, it seemed he came to a decision. "Uh, it's based on some obscure monographs of Sir Richard Burton."

Oh, so that was why he didn't want to talk about it. He's afraid someone will connect his dissertation with his real life role of companion. "I see," she answered thoughtfully, "which monograph in particular? I have some familiarity with Burton's work."

"Sentinels," Blair answered, his voice so low, Dee almost didn't hear him. He visibly flinched as well, as if he expected her to laugh at his subject choice. Jesus, what kind of crap had this kid been given over a stupid paper?

She decided to surprise him. "You know," she said gently, "Burton was the one to come up with the term sentinel to describe the individual in primitive villages with heightened senses. Other cultures had different names for the sentinel and…." She searched her memory for Burton's term. "And guide phenomenon. The ancient Amazons called their nation's protector the Champion, and the champion's partner was the Companion. The two of them worked together to defend the village from attackers, seek out game, and give advance warning of natural disasters. They were respected and revered by the nation. The subject of your paper is nothing to be ashamed of."

Diandra suddenly realized that Blair was no longer at her side. Turning around, she saw him standing a few paces behind her, a look of amazement on his face. As quickly as he had stopped, Blair was in motion again. He caught up to her in a couple bounds, his hair flying behind him, and his hands waving, punctuating his next words. "Oh, wow! I can't believe you've heard of Sentinels. I can't believe you actually believe in them!" His expression grew intense. "Do you have any documentation of the Amazons' Champion? Could I reference it in my work? Have you come across any other incidents of the phenomenon in other cultures?"

Throwing back her head, Dee laughed at his eagerness. "Any materials I have you're welcome to use. Have you really been having such a hard time of it?"

"Oh, man," he sighed, "you don't know the half of it, Dee. You don't mind if I call you Dee, do you?" She shook her head, and he continued. "I've got lots of info and field work with actual people with heightened senses, but not much more background other than Burton's. It's really been what's holding me up."

"You've been working with a Sentinel then?" she asked, trying to get him to talk about his own experiences. She was unprepared for the look of panic that crossed his face.

"I've said too much already," he replied, his anxiety rising.

Diandra frowned. What had him so scared? Without thinking, she opened her sight for a brief moment, focusing it on finding the truth behind his jumbled emotions. What she saw was a large, snarling, growling, blue-eyed, silver wolf. He's protecting his champion, she realized, and ceased her probe. "Sorry, Lobo, I wasn't thinking. Of course you have to protect your subjects. It's okay, your secret's safe with me."

The tension radiated off of Blair for a moment more, then he relaxed. "I don't know how I know, but I feel I can trust you. Thanks for not pressuring me." They walked a few feet in silence, and then Blair said, "Lobo? Where did that come from?"

She grinned at him. "Only fair if you're going to call me Dee. I get to give you a nickname too."

"But 'wolf'? Where did you dream that up?"

If you only knew, she thought. "Just seemed appropriate. Suits your personality. Eager, affectionate, protective of the pack," she trailed off as they reached the market. 

Blair held the door for her as they entered. Someone's mother taught him some manners, Dee thought. Picking up a basket, she headed for the produce, Blair trailing along behind. They had spent about twenty minutes shopping, picking over the vegetables for the freshest, and debating the merits of organically grown versus chemically treated, when a loud voice carrying clearly through the small store froze them in their tracks. 

"Gimme the money and nobody gets hurt!" The female cashier gave out a frightened squeak.

Tucked around the corner of an aisle, Dee and Blair were out of the robber's line of sight for the moment. Digging into his backpack, Blair produced his cell phone and calmly dialed 911. "This is Blair Sandburg. I'm at Del Amichi market on the corner of Prospect and 53rd. There's a robbery in progress. The robber may be armed. I need some help here!" he whispered into the phone. After receiving assurances that help was on the way, he cut the connection, and peered around the end of the aisle toward the cashier. 

Dee planted a firm hand on his shoulder and pulled him back under cover. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?" she asked, her voice low.

"It's okay," Blair replied, "I work with the police, and I recognize the suspect. He took one of my classes a couple years ago. Maybe I can talk him out of this." Shrugging off her grip, he crawled forward again. 

Glancing up, Dee caught a glimpse in the security mirror over the front door of something Blair was unaware of. There were two thieves, and they were both armed. One was dumping the contents of the register into a bag, while the other was concealed around the edge of shelves a few aisles away from her and Blair's position. She was distracted for only a split second, but it was long enough for Blair to slip out into the front of the store. "Damn," she hissed under her breath. There was only one thing she could do for him now, and that was take out the second suspect.

Silently, she made her way back down the aisle she was in, and crept up behind her target. He never heard her coming. Her right arm snaked around his neck in a chokehold, and after a few seconds of struggle, he went down.

Dee had been keeping an ear open to what Blair had been doing, and she could hear him trying to reason with the first robber. "Hey, Danny, it's cool, man. You've got the money; nobody has to get hurt." She heard a terrified squeal from the cashier. "You don't have to hurt her, Danny. You got what you want; so go ahead and leave, man, before the cops get here."

Diandra moved toward the cashier's area, keeping the shelves between herself and the suspect's view, while keeping track of what was going on by using the security mirrors. She watched as the suspect headed for the door, gun raised in his right hand, the sack holding the money in his left. "Come on, Robbie, let's go!" he yelled. When no answer was forthcoming, the gunman took a step in his partner's direction. Blair chose that moment to grab for the gun.

Her scream of "NO!" was drowned out by the gunshot. Rounding the corner of the shelves, she witnessed Blair sliding to the floor, his shirtfront covered by a blossoming crimson flower. Scooping up a can from a display, she hurled it at the stunned thief, hearing the bones in his wrist crack as it connected with his hand, causing him to drop the gun. Two long strides closed the distance between them, and a roundhouse kick to the head sent the young punk crashing to the ground.

Dropping to her knees beside Blair, Dee quickly examined him, realizing that if she didn't do something, he would be dead in a matter of minutes. Without hesitation, she placed her hands over the wound, centering herself, then forcing her life's energy though her fingers into Blair, sending his body's own healing abilities into overdrive. In the long seconds that followed a million thoughts crashed through her mind. What if she couldn't save him? She'd never healed anyone hurt this badly before. If he died, she would be responsible…and what about his champion? She wouldn't wish that kind of torture on anyone. She would be responsible for two deaths…

A groan from Blair broke through her self-recrimination. With a start, she realized he was conscious, and could feel everything that was happening to him. Gazing into his wide, frightened eyes, she said, "You're going to be fine, Blair." His only response was a strangled moan. She could feel his tissues healing under her hands, her energy knitting the wound together. She could also feel herself weakening, and knew she would have one hell of a headache once this was over. She apologized for hurting him. "Sorry, Lobo, I know this hurts worse than getting shot…"

"Jim…" he whispered weakly.

She realized then that "Jim" must be his sentinel. How typical that the companion's first thought was of his champion, rather than his own pain. "Shhh…. It's going to be okay, mi corazon," she reassured him. 

He was out of the woods now, she knew, and she struggled to finish the job, to neatly close the last of the wound. The sound of someone crashing through the market's front door broke her concentration. Looking up, she found her eyes locking with those of a tall, dark-haired man, whose blue eyes held an agony she remembered only too well. Her last thought before she slipped into unconsciousness was "This must be Blair's champion."

* * *

He was drowning, Blair thought. Everything was hazy, and had a peculiar distortion to it, as if he were underwater, and viewing the world through a liquid lens. His chest burned, and against his better judgement, he inhaled, half expecting a rush of water to flood his lungs. Instead the taste of sweet air shocked him into fuller consciousness. 

There was a weight of something, no, of someone, he realized, lying on top of him, as his eyes focused on the body sprawled across his own. "Dee?" His cry was barely audible to his own ears. He tried again. "Dee?" It was louder this time, but there was no response from her. Numb fingers fumbled at her throat, relief crashing through him as they found the slow steady pulse. That emergency taken care of, something else tugged at his awareness, needing his attention. The scream of a jungle cat cut through the gauzy film still surrounding his mind. "JIM!" he yelled, sitting upright, dumping Diandra's limp form to the floor. 

His vision drawn upward, he saw his sentinel standing over him, eyes blank, face slack in the classic portrait of a zone out. Blair rose slowly to his feet, most of the world spinning around him. He caught at his sentinel's arm, steadying himself, and began speaking to him, falling instinctively into Guide speech. "Jim, it's okay, man. Snap out of it. I'm okay; really, Jim, I'm fine. Follow my voice, come back to me." His hand clutched at the sentinel's, his thumb rubbing over the back of it, providing a distraction. "Turn all the dials down, Jim, your senses are lying to you. I'm okay, I'm okay."

A sharp intake of breath signaled his sentinel's return. Jim blinked slowly, then focused on the anxious face of his guide. "Blair?" This couldn't be him. He was dead; there was so much blood, he could taste the sharp metallic tang even now. Arms wrapped around his waist, and he found himself yanked into a tight hug. A well-known heartbeat pounded against his chest, and Jim dropped his head, burying his face in his partner's soft curls, inhaling the familiar scent of shampoo, sweat, and…blood. "God, Blair, you were dead; I heard your heart stop…"

"No, Jim, I'm fine. I don't know how, but I'm fine." He pulled back to gaze up at the taller man. "Dee…Diandra saved me." The mention of her name reminded him that he had forgotten her in the need to help his sentinel. He whirled around, relieved to find her lying in the position he'd left her on the floor, her chest rising and falling with her deep, even breaths.

"I think she's just unconscious, Chief," Jim said, trying to reassure him. The discussion was interrupted by the arrival of the paramedics. 

The technician took in the puddle of scarlet on the floor, the unconscious woman, two unconscious men, and the bloodsoaked Sandburg. "We were told there was a gunshot victim?"

"Uh…" Blair stammered.

"Little mistake in all the confusion," Ellison said, taking charge. "She needs help though. The other two are the perps?" Blair nodded. "Check them out and let the officer over there know if they can be shipped downtown." Throwing an arm around his partner's shoulders, he led him toward the door. "C'mon, Chief, let's go outside and you can explain all this to me." 

Blair followed Jim through the market's doors, and across the sidewalk to the truck. He leaned against the fender, suddenly grateful for the support as a lingering wave of unsteadiness passed over him. Jim planted a hand on either side of him, and invaded his personal space. "What the hell happened in there, Sandburg?" he growled.

He swallowed nervously, knowing that Jim's anger was only in response to the scare he'd had, but feeling the butterflies in his gut just the same. "It's hard to explain, Jim…" he began.

"I'll make it easier for you. Who the hell is that woman?"

Blair took a breath. Okay, that was an easy question. "Diandra Pallas, our new next door neighbor." Seeing the scowl on Jim's face deepen, he rushed through the rest of the story. "I helped her move in this afternoon, and when I saw she didn't have anything in her fridge, I offered to show her the way to the grocery, since she was new to Cascade, and I needed to pick up a few things anyway, and you know me, Jim, a trip to the store just can't go smoothly, and so there was this guy holding up the cashier and I was afraid he was going to hurt her, so I was just talking to him, trying to calm him down when he went all crazy and I grabbed for the gun and it went off and…." He paused to take a breath, rubbing the heel of his hand over the center of his chest, the ache of the wound remembered. "And I was dying, Jim…I was dying!" His voice was suddenly all tight and squeaky, but he couldn't stop now. "I could feel the blood pouring out of me with every beat of my heart, and then I was on fire! I didn't think anything could hurt worse than getting shot, Jim, but it did. It felt like she reached inside my chest and pulled my insides out…. And then there was this incredible calm, this peace, and I was floating, and then I couldn't breathe, and I took a breath, and woke up, and you were there, in a zone out, and you know the rest, Jim." He finished his recitation, and stood there, looking up at the older man, waiting for a response.

Sighing, Jim took a step back and shook his head. "You know that doesn't make a damn bit of sense, Chief."

Blair studied the toes of his sneakers for a moment. "Yeah, I know, but that's what happened."

Jim ran a hand through his short hair and unclenched his jaw. "Well, keep that story to yourself for a while okay? Simon's never going to believe that one."

"Sure, Jim," Blair agreed, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Seeing the familiar sparkle in his partner's blue eyes overwhelmed Jim, and he pulled the smaller man into a bearhug, a hand in his hair pressing the anthropologist's head against his shoulder. He felt the other man tense, then relax against him.

"I'm sorry, Jim," Blair apologized. "I didn't mean to scare you like that…"

Jim was about to reply, when a commotion behind them caused him to release Blair and turn around. The paramedics were carrying Diandra out on a gurney, just as she began to regain consciousness. Disoriented, she tried to stand, and in the process slid halfway off the stretcher. The words coming out of her mouth were definitely curses, but not in any language Blair or Jim had ever heard. They both started in her direction when she seemed to remember how to speak English. "Goddamit, get these straps off of me! I am not going to any bloody hospital where you can pump me full of drugs!" 

One of the paramedics approached her, something held in his hand. "Damn it, I'm not kidding!" she yelled, kicking out at him. "Get these things OFF OF ME!" Dee struggled to bring her hands up high enough to unfasten the strap across her chest, but she couldn't manage it. Her panicked gaze found Blair behind Jim's imposing form. "Lobo!" she cried almost plaintively, her eyes filling with tears of frustration.

Pushing past Jim, Blair ran to her side, his hands going immediately to the buckles holding her in a twisted position, half on and half off the gurney. "Relax, Dee, it's okay. I'll have you free in just a minute." The strap came loose, and she slid off the pallet into his arms. "It's okay, nobody's going to make you go anywhere you don't want to," he soothed, feeling her trembling against him. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, when her shudders showed no sign of stopping. 

Using his shoulders to pull herself into a kneeling position, she nodded against his neck. "I'll be fine," she croaked, "I just need to rest, wore myself out…doing what I did." 

Blair slid his arm around her waist, his eyes widening a little as he felt something long, thin and solid under the left side of her coat. Now was not the time to ask about it, he knew. "Okay," he told her, "I'm going to help you up, and then I'm going to put you in Jim's truck and take you home." She nodded against him again, indicating she understood. Tightening his grip on her, he lifted both of them to their feet and headed toward the truck. "Jim, can you get the door, man?"

The muscles in Jim's jaw clenched again, but he did as his partner asked, opening the passenger side door, then standing out of the way as Blair helped her into the pickup. "Give me your keys, man," Blair said, holding out his hand.

Jim dropped the keys into his guide's fingers, feeling uneasiness creeping over him. He really did not want Sandburg anywhere near this woman. "It's okay, Jim. I'm just going to take her home. You finish up here, and by the time you get back to the loft, I'll have dinner ready. Okay? I'm really, really sorry about this."

Jim looked into his guide's worried face and sighed. She'd saved his partner's life, if Blair's story was true. Blair trusted her that much was obvious. Why couldn't he trust his guide's instincts? "Go ahead," he finally said, grudgingly. "Take care of her, and I'll see you later. You both have a lot of questions to answer."

"Sure, Jim, we'll answer all the questions you want, but later." He swung up into the cab of the truck and started the engine. Checking for traffic behind him, he pulled out into a U-turn, and headed for the loft.

At the first stop light, Blair stole a glance at Dee. She was slumped in the seat, her head leaning against the door, but her eyes were bright and clear and fixed on him. He fidgeted under her gaze for a moment, then said "What?"

"Go ahead and ask me. I know you're dying to. Pardon the bad choice of words." She gave him a little smile. 

Taking a deep breath, Blair said, "How did you do that? How did you heal me?"

Dee shifted in the seat, trying to find a more comfortable position. "I don't really know. I mean, I do know, but I've never really gone into the scientific how part of it. So the unscientific explanation is I speeded up your body's healing system by giving you some of my life energy, actually, a lot of my own energy. That's why I'm so wiped right now. I know that probably doesn't answer your question, but I think that's the best you're going to get at the moment."

The traffic light turned green and Blair set the truck in motion again. Part of him had a million more questions to ask her, but he knew he really didn't have any right to ask them. After all, he had his own secrets. "Thank you," he said finally, unable to come up with any other words to express his gratitude.

Realizing his words weren't meant for her explanation, but for her actions, she laid her hand on his bicep, squeezing gently. "You're welcome," she responded. "Sorry, it had to hurt so much. I haven't quite figured out why the healing hurts more than the injury."

"Maybe it's because you're compressing weeks or months of pain into a few seconds," he said, his analytical mind already at work on the problem.

"Maybe," she answered with a sigh. "Goddess, my head hurts."

"We're here," Blair announced, parking the pickup behind the building. He helped her out of the truck and upstairs. By the time they exited the elevator, Dee was leaning heavily on his shoulder.

"Keys are in my pocket," she told him.

"What?" Blair said distractedly, trying to find the key to the loft on Jim's key ring, since his was in his backpack at the crime scene. He hoped Jim remembered to bring it home with him. "Oh, your keys. No, no, you're gonna come with me. You're in no shape to be by yourself. Besides, I've seen the mess in your apartment, there's no place to even sit down." Finally getting the door open, he gave her a hand inside. Taking her coat from her, he hung it up on the peg by the door, sneaking a peek at what was hidden inside while Dee's back was to him. He didn't know what he expected to find, but it certainly wasn't a Japanese sword. 

"Lobo?" she said, drawing his attention back to her. 

He hurried to her side and helped her take a seat on the couch. "I think your coat's ruined. You must have knelt right in my…." He couldn't finish the sentence.

"Hmm?" Dee said, distracted by the pounding in her head. "Oh, bloodstains. They should come right out; they have before."

He so didn't want to know how she knew that. A change of subject was in order. "Now you just lie down and rest," he told her, getting her a couple more pillows and dragging an afghan off the back of the other couch. "Can I get you anything to drink? Some aspirin for your headache maybe?"

Dee couldn't help but smile as Blair fussed over her. "Just some water, Lobo. I don't think I can stomach much else right now."

Trotting out to the kitchen, Blair grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and brought it back, cracking it open before handing it to her. "Do you think you'll be okay for a couple minutes while I, uh, get cleaned up?" he asked, gesturing to his blood stained clothing.

"I'll be fine, 'Mom'," she replied, giving him a wink. 

"Don't you start with me too," he shot over his shoulder as he headed for the bathroom, snagging some clean clothes from his bedroom on the way. "Jim tells me I have a 'mother hen' mode."

Leaning her head against the back of the couch, Diandra shot back, "Okay, then you can be my mother wolf, my lobo mama." 

Shaking his head, Blair closed the bathroom door behind him, giggling at her comment. The adrenaline rush was wearing off, leaving him punchy. Yanking his ruined T-shirt over his head, Blair heard something hit the countertop and bounce to the floor. Tossing the shirt into the trashcan, he bent down to search for the object, finding it buried in the plush pile of the bathmat. Straightening up, he stared at the small metal slug in his hand, struggling to wrap his mind around the concept of its existence. "This is a bullet; a bullet that was in me; a bullet she pulled out of my chest…" Until this moment, the whole experience had all seemed very surreal. Now it came rushing back to him with painful clarity. Danny's drug clouded eyes, the gun waving around, Danny moving past him toward the back of the store, toward Dee! He saw himself grabbing for the gun, Danny pulling his arm back, his hands on Danny's wrist, over his fingers, trying to wrestle the gun away, his thumb brushing against the trigger, an explosion of sound and the smell of sulfur, and pain, oh god, the pain, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe! 

Blair grabbed for the edge of the counter as he retched violently into the toilet. He was still shaking with dry heaves when he heard Diandra's voice outside the door. "Lobo! Are you okay in there?"

"Yeah, " he managed, taking a breath, trying to keep his stomach calm. "I'll be okay in a minute. Just a little post traumatic heaving." Turning on the faucet, he splashed cold water on his face and into his mouth, rinsing away the worst of the taste. Grabbing a washcloth and some soap, he cleaned the blood off his chest and stomach, closing his eyes as he wrung the cloth out under the running tap, not able to face the sight of the blood tinged water swirling down the drain. Throwing the washcloth into the trashcan to join his shirt, he toweled off. Tossing the towel in the vicinity of the towel rack, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. His fingers trailed across the skin of his chest, pausing in the middle, just to the left of his sternum. A dime-sized patch of pale pink flesh marred the even tones of his skin. He brushed his index finger over it lightly, and it faded to white, then back to pink as he removed the slight pressure. 

"Blair, are you sure you're okay?" he heard Diandra say once again. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he answered, pulling on a fresh shirt and exchanging his jeans for a pair of sweats. Opening the bathroom door, he found her leaning against the wall in the hallway, her complexion ghostly. "Jesus, Dee!" he exclaimed as he caught her before she slid to the floor. "I thought you were going to stay put." Throwing her arm across his shoulders, he guided her back to the couch.

"Sorry, but you sounded like you needed help," she murmured, wincing as her headache intensified from her exertion.

Noticing her look of pain, Blair once again offered some aspirin. Dee started to shake her head, but thought better of it. "Don't think that'll have much effect. It's more like a migraine."

"I have some herbal tea I drink whenever I get a migraine. Do you think that will help?"

"It can't hurt." 

"I'll be right back, then." He headed for the kitchen and put the teakettle on to boil. "Shit," he thought, "Jim'll be home soon and I promised dinner." He didn't even want to think about what Jim would say when he saw Diandra. Yanking open the freezer, he pulled out some lasagna he had frozen last week and threw it in the oven after adjusting it to the correct temperature. Maybe Jim would end up riding with the suspects downtown and dinner would be ready by the time he finally showed up. Blair opened the refrigerator again and began looking for enough lettuce to make a salad.

Dee scrunched down further into the sofa cushions and listened to the comforting sounds of Blair puttering in the kitchen. For the first time in a long while, she felt herself letting her guard down in another's presence. She gazed around the loft, noting that it was immaculate, yet still managed to feel lived in. Somehow her residences tended to move rapidly from lived-in to messy. If she had to guess at it, she would attribute the neatness to Ellison, and the lived-in to Blair's influence. She idly wondered how they had managed to hook up with each other. She had never met a companion/champion pair that was comprised of such extreme opposites. Maybe that was what she had sensed in Blair when they had first met. Maybe he believed that to increase the bond between himself and his sentinel would mean remaking himself in Ellison's image, something he knew he couldn't do. Or maybe he just didn't know how to bring them closer. It wasn't as if guides were handed instruction manuals when they found their sentinels. A wave of pain radiated through her head and down her neck, causing her to bite her lip to keep back a moan. "Serves me right for trying to puzzle out metaphysics when I'm this tired," she thought.

Blair was back in front of her then, holding out a steaming mug. When he saw how much her hands were shaking, he sat down on the coffee table and closed his fingers around hers, steadying the cup so she could take a sip. 

Blair's closeness was almost more than she could bear. She kept her eyes shut while she drank, afraid of what the expression on his face would do to her if she could see it. Feeling hot tears collecting behind her closed eyelids, she tried to force them back. "Dee?" Blair's voice softly queried. She felt him prying the mug from her hands, then running his finger lightly across her cheek. She opened her eyes to find his face inches from hers, his blue eyes full of concern. "There you are," he said. "I was getting worried there for a minute."

Those kind words were too much for her, and her tears spilled over, running in rivulets down her cheeks. "Damn, you must really be hurting," he said. He was beside her on the couch immediately, carefully pulling her against his shoulder, one hand slowly rubbing her back, the other trying to lightly massage her neck and scalp, but getting tangled in her braid.

"Hair band," she breathed against his neck, and Blair tugged it gently loose, combing his fingers through her hair until it fell in dark waves over her shoulders. He returned to his tender ministrations, and Dee relaxed against him, her heart overwhelmed with the feelings he was instilling in her. It had been so long since anyone had treated her like this, since she had let anyone take care of her. She hadn't realized how much she had missed being fussed over and cared for, how much she had missed letting someone else be strong for a change. 

Blair could hear Diandra's breathing even out, and her head slid into a comfortable position on his chest as she drifted off to sleep. He rested his chin against her hair, and just held her, enjoying the feeling of being able to do something to ease her pain.


	2. Chapter 2

Ellison shouldered his roommate's backpack and headed toward the loft, glad of the three-block walk. Maybe it would give him a chance to figure out what had happened that evening. Lord knew the employees of the store hadn't been much help, and the one crook that had regained consciousness had no idea what had happened to him. The other was on his way to the hospital with a broken wrist and what looked like a dislocated jaw. The female cashier, who had been the only employee at the front of the store during the robbery, had ducked under her register when Blair and the suspect had begun struggling for the gun, and had stayed there until the uniformed officers had coaxed her out when they arrived. Hopefully the store surveillance tape he had taken into evidence would show what had happened. He planned on going over it at the station in the morning. Right now, he just wanted to get home to his guide, and relax in the knowledge that he wasn't dead, no matter how unsettling the reasons for that miracle were.

That was another thing Jim planned on taking care of in the a.m. He would run a background check on their new neighbor. He knew he should be grateful to her for saving his partner's life, but there was just something that bothered him about her, something he couldn't quite get a handle on, just an instant dislike. If nothing else, looking into Diandra Pallas' past would make him feel better about Sandburg's new acquaintance.

Jim entered the apartment building and took the stairs instead of the elevator, hoping to burn off a little steam, and prevent himself from taking his frustrations out on Blair. He stretched his senses upward as he climbed, and found his guide's heartbeat in the loft where it belonged. Listening a little more closely, he discerned there were two heartbeats coming from the loft, and odder still, they were beating in tandem. Reaching the door of 307, he rummaged through Sandburg's backpack until he found his keys. As he slid the key into the lock, he heard the heartbeats diverge into two separate rhythms, one slow and measured, the other slightly faster, and more animated.

* * *

Blair was just leaning Diandra's sleeping form back against the sofa cushions when he heard Jim outside the loft. Thank god he hadn't walked in to find Dee asleep in Blair's lap. That would have ended the night on a swell note. Dee was definitely not a "table leg", and he wouldn't ever want to give Jim that impression.

He looked up as Jim opened the door, setting the backpack on the floor by the small table. Blair raised a finger to his lips, and gestured for Jim to follow him into the kitchen.

"She's here, isn't she?" Jim said in a low voice, barely controlling the growl he felt building.

Sandburg opened the oven door and checked its contents before answering him. "Yes," he replied, turning around and folding his arms across his chest, "she is. Her stuff isn't unpacked yet, and in the shape she's in, I didn't want her to be alone. She can barely stand, Jim. She's not a threat to me, or you. Besides, she just fell asleep, and with any luck, she'll be out the rest of the night." He turned to the kitchen counter and began slicing a carrot. "Dinner will be ready in about 15 minutes."

Opening the fridge, Jim helped himself to a beer. God knew after tonight's events he needed one and the night wasn't over yet. "What makes you think I have a problem with Ms. Pallas?"

Blair turned his head slightly, and shot him a look through a fringe of hair. "It's Dr. Pallas, and you have that look on your face, like a dog that's just discovered someone else has been pissing on his fire hydrant."

Jim choked on his mouthful of beer, and there was a moment of coughing and sputtering before he could even attempt an answer. "That's one way of putting it, Sandburg. I prefer to think of it as being cautious. We don't know anything about her."

"Actually, I know quite a lot," Blair said, moving from slicing the carrot to a tomato. "I spent a couple hours helping her move in this afternoon, and I asked questions. You know, that thing you do when you want to get to know a person."

"And?"

"And I found out she's lived in the Pacific Northwest for the past couple of years, but this is her first time in Cascade. She's going to be teaching at Rainier, probably in the history department, but she does have a background in archeology and anthropology. She's published at least one novel, and has made a name for herself by forcing the academia to change its whole way of thinking about the Amazons. She drives an '89 Jeep Cherokee, and is into healthy living and lots of exercise, dancing, I think. Oh, and she speaks Spanish, and whatever that language was she was shouting at the EMTs, possibly Gaelic."

Jim stared at Blair for a moment. Sometimes he forgot that even though he wasn't a cop, Blair was just as trained in observation as the best detective. He felt a small smile curve his lips. "Sorry, Chief. I should have figured you'd find out all you could about the most attractive resident in the building."

Blair felt his cheeks grow hot. "It's not like that, Jim, not at all. She's not like anyone I've ever met before, and not because she had the power to save my life."

Ellison felt his smile fading at the reminder, "Um, listen, Chief, I know you are probably uncomfortable talking about what happened, but the employees at the store weren't any help. I know you told me before, but that account wasn't exactly lucid. What exactly did happen?"

Blair scraped the diced carrot and tomato off the cutting board and on top of the lettuce in the salad bowls. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled something out and handed it to Jim.

"What's this?" Jim asked.

Blair ran his hand uneasily through his hair. "I, uh, found it in my shirt when I was getting cleaned up. It's evidence, man. It's the bullet I was shot with."

Jim stared at it, still barely able to comprehend what had happened to his guide. Automatically, he went to the cupboard, got out a ziplock baggie, and dropped the slug inside, writing on the plastic with a marker where and when the evidence had been obtained.

The stove timer dinged, and Blair grabbed a hot pad and removed the pan of lasagna, then went about setting the table. "Jim," he said after a moment, "I remembered exactly what happened when I got shot. I don't want to press charges against Danny. It was my fault; I grabbed for the gun, and in the process of struggling for it, my thumb got caught on the trigger. I shot myself."

The older man stood at the counter, his emotions wound so tight he couldn't move. He shot himself. His guide could have died, and would have taken the best part of his sentinel with him, all because of a stupid move on his part. Jim tried to contain his outrage before he turned around to face him, but he could feel the blood rushing to his face. His piercing gaze pinned Blair to the table. "Don't you ever do something so stupid again!" he hissed, then fell silent, unable to trust himself with any more speech.

"Hey, I don't plan on shooting myself again, man," Blair said, trying to make light of the situation.

Jim grabbed his arm as he moved past him to get the silverware. "I'm not kidding, Blair. If you put yourself in danger like that again, I swear I will kill you myself."

Blair looked up into his anguished blue eyes, seeing perhaps for the first time what his death would do to the older man. "Okay, okay, I promise to be careful. No more heroics, at least for a long while. But if you're in trouble, man, all bets are off." Now it was his turn to nail Ellison with a look.

"If I'm in trouble, you call Simon. That's an order." He released the anthropologist and went looking for his beer. 

Dinner was pretty silent after that heated exchange, or at least silent as Blair got. He rose several times during the meal to check on their sleeping guest, and once it was over, he piled the dishes in the sink, yawned, and announced that he would take care of the mess in the morning. Jim agreed, seeing that it was close to midnight as it was.

Sandburg wandered into his room, and emerged a few minutes later carrying a pillow and a blanket. Jim raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm gonna sleep out here on the other couch, in case Dee wakes up. She's likely to be confused, and I don't want her falling and hurting herself."

"Suit yourself, Chief," Jim replied, heading upstairs to his bedroom. "Good night." Even though he was exhausted, Jim was still awake by the time the other man had fallen asleep. He listened to his guide's heartbeat and steady even breathing, once again giving thanks to the powers that be for keeping him in this world. He rolled over, slightly irritated with himself. He could thank some unknown deity, but he couldn't find it in his heart to thank the person who had really saved Blair. Maybe once he viewed the tape of the robbery, and did that background check, he would be able to tell her how much he owed her. Closing his eyes, Jim tuned in to his guide again, barely registering as he drifted off to sleep the sound of another heart echoing the rhythm of his partner's. 

* * *

Diandra awoke slowly, awareness gradually returning as a small whimper reached her ears. She opened her eyes, and after a few brief seconds, they adjusted to the low light coming through the French doors and the skylight. The sound came again, a little louder, and this time it was followed by troubled breathing. She quickly spotted Blair on the opposite couch, sunk in the depths of a nightmare. 

Moving to his side, Dee called his name softly, not wanting to startle him. Blair only struggled further, beginning to hyperventilate. "Lobo," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder, "you're dreaming. Come on, wake up, Blair."

Unconsciously, Blair's hand clutched at his chest, and he gasped for air. He was reliving the shooting, Dee realized. She moved her hand over his heart, gently massaging the area. "It's okay, Lobo. You're just fine. Take a deep breath and hold it, Blair. Now let it out slowly….and again, Blair." Her quiet voice seemed to be reaching him, and she felt his racing heart slow under her fingertips. His muscles relaxed, and he took another long breath, his eyes opening.

"Jim?" was the first word out of his mouth.

"Right here, buddy," Jim's voice replied from behind Dee. 

Startled, she jumped at his presence. She had been so focused on helping Blair that she hadn't heard him come down the stairs. Rising to her feet, she stepped back, allowing the Sentinel to tend to his Guide.

"It's okay, Chief, you just had a nightmare," Jim told him, seating himself next to his guide, his hand brushing Blair's sweat-tangled hair out of his face. He continued to reassure him as the younger man tried to breathe deeply, forcing the dream images from his mind.

Sensing she was no longer needed, Dee grabbed her shoes from the floor next to the other couch, and padded across the loft, taking her trenchcoat from its hook as she slid out the door and across the hall to her own apartment. She dropped the shoes just inside the door, and threw the coat over the back of a dining room chair. A long sweep of her arm shoved a row of boxes off her sofa, and collapsing face down on it, she was soon asleep.

* * *

Jim pushed the pause button on the remote, and stared at the TV screen. He had not imagined it. Visible to his enhanced sight, he could clearly make out the image in the security mirror. The camera had been focused on the front door of the store, and the cashiers' area, but in the upper right corner of the picture, it showed the large, round mirror. Jim rewound the tape and viewed it from the beginning, this time concentrating on the images in the mirror. He could see Blair and Diandra shopping, both of them smiling and laughing. When the thieves entered the store, both Diandra and Blair ducked down, Blair using his cell phone to call the police. He watched as Blair started toward the front of the store, and Dee stopped him. When she looked up, he realized she had seen something in the mirror, and he paused the tape again, until he too spotted the second suspect.

Hitting play again, Jim ignored what was happening with Blair in the foreground of the tape. He had already watched that horror once, and that was enough. Dee slipped out of the mirror's coverage for a moment, and then she was back, stealthily creeping up behind the second robber, and bringing him down with an expert grip on his neck. Even Jim doubted he could have executed the maneuver any better. Her whole body jerked in reaction to the shot, and then she moved rapidly to the front of the store, her swift actions quickly sending Danny to join his partner on the floor. She knelt beside Blair then, and put her hands on his chest, over the wound. Jim could see her close her eyes, and take a deep breath. He focused his attention on her hands then, and even with his heightened sight, it was difficult to make out what was happening on the black and white tape, but it looked like there was some sort of electrical energy flowing from her hands into Blair. He watched until it was over, and he had entered the store. It was strange seeing himself in a zone out, and even stranger to see a now perfectly fine Blair springing to his feet to help his partner. 

"Jim? JIM!"

Shaking off the beginning of a zone with an effort, Jim clicked off the tape, and turned to find his captain standing behind him, a horrified look on his face. "What in the hell is that?!" Simon asked. "Is that Sandburg?"

Jim eased himself off the edge of the conference table and stood up. "Sorry, I'm using your office, Simon, but I wanted to view this in private."

"And I can see why! When the hell did this happen?"

"Last night. Sandburg was involved in a robbery attempt at the market down the street from the loft."

"I'd say he was a little more than involved, Ellison. From where I'm standing, it looked like he took a bullet point blank in the chest, and then a couple minutes later jumped up and was fine. Is this some kind of joke? Because I'm not laughing." Simon crossed to his desk and took his seat behind it. 

Sighing, Jim pulled up a chair and sat down in front of Banks. "I'm not sure I understand what happened myself, but Sandburg is fine. No injury at all, except for what looks like a small burn mark on his chest. He showed it to me this morning."

"But he was shot; that tape is not doctored in any way, no special effects?"

"No, it's exactly what it is. A security tape of Sandburg getting shot, and then being healed." Jim pinched the bridge of his nose. "I was hoping to find some kind of explanation by going over it using my senses, but all I've discovered is that my new neighbor is a female Rambo. And she had the power to save Blair's life."

Simon took a cigar out of his desk and rolled it between his fingers, pondering the situation. "Are the suspects in custody?"

"Yes, one is downstairs, and the other is in the hospital with a broken wrist and injured jaw."

"And we have witnesses that can place them at the scene, committing the crime of robbery?"

Jim nodded slowly, seeing where his captain was heading. "Yes, the cashier, Blair and Dr. Pallas can all testify to that."

Simon laid down his cigar and started to make his first pot of coffee for the day. "Then I don't see any reason we need that tape as evidence. And I certainly don't have any desire to know what really happened, as long as Sandburg is okay. I have to put up with enough strange stuff from the two of you already."

"Thanks, Captain. If the media ever got a hold of it…"

"It would be a nightmare. Now is there anything else you need, Jim?"

Rising, Jim ejected the tape from the VCR. "Um, yeah. I want to run a background check on my neighbor, find out if she was ever in the military, and see if she's hiding anything more sinister than an ability to heal people."

Banks looked back at Ellison, a little surprised. "She bother you that much?"

"She makes my skin crawl, actually, and Sandburg is really taken with her. I just don't want him getting burned," Jim replied.

"You don't think she's another Alex Barnes, do you?" 

Jim had not thought about that possibility. "If you're asking if I think she has Sentinel abilities, she hasn't shown any signs of them. Do I think she might be a murdering psychopath? I don't know that either. But either way, all my instincts are telling me she's trouble."

"All right, Jim, I trust your judgement. Just don't step on too many toes when you go poking around in her past. You know the military doesn't take too kindly to people sticking their noses in where they don't belong."

"Thanks, Simon," Jim said as he exited the captain's office.

He spent the next several hours on the computer and the telephone and came up with some unusual, if not suspicious answers. First of all, there was not much record of Diandra Pallas in the US up until about two years ago, when she had come to America from Australia, using a Greek passport. She had entered the US in Seacouver, WA, and after a week's stay there, had traveled to Paris, France. She had remained in France for several months, then returned to the US, and judging by her credit card statements, had spent a good deal of time in New York City. He also discovered she seemed to have a steady supply of money, as her bills were always paid in full, and she had paid cash for her apartment across from the loft. He called a couple of the contractors he remembered as having worked on the place, and found that she had paid them in cash also. 

Growing more puzzled by the moment, Jim advanced to her professional life. He found out from calling Rainier that the last job listed on her resume was as a guest lecturer at Georgetown University in Washington, DC. There was a gap of eight months between that position and the one at Rainier. Picking up the phone again, he called Georgetown, and from the English department's secretary, he got the name and the extension of one of the professors she had worked closely with, a Dr. Anna Klein. As luck would have it, Dr. Klein was in her office.

"Dr. Klein, my name is Jim Ellison. I'm a detective with the Cascade, WA police department. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about one of your former co-workers, a Dr. Diandra Pallas?"

"Dee's not in any kind of trouble, is she?" Jim could hear the worried tone in her voice.

"No, no, just doing a routine check. Has she been in trouble before?"

"No, not really, I don't think. We weren't very close, she just helped me coach the fencing team, and we had lunch together a couple times." Dr. Klein paused, and Jim swore he could hear the wheels turning in her mind. "Though there was that incident with her boyfriend…"

"It would be really helpful if you could remember anything at all."

"Well, it was all rather confusing, and she was pretty torn up about it. There was this woman that was killed, very gruesome, the papers said someone cut her head off. Diandra happened to be one of the last people to see her alive. Not that she had anything to do with the woman's murder, but her boyfriend, Diandra's boyfriend, worked for the FBI, and he had to question her about it. I don't know if he suspected her or not, but she thought he did. They broke up shortly after that, and then Dee left at the end of the semester. She had an option for the spring semester too, but she backed out of it. Sorry I don't know much else."

"You've been very helpful, Dr. Klein. Thank you for your time." Jim hung up the phone slowly, feeling frustrated. The questions he had been asking all morning had led not to answers, but to more questions. He flipped through the Rolodex on his desk and found the number of his friend at FBI headquarters in DC.

Placing the call, he was once again lucky to find his friend in the office. "Hey, Jim, great to hear from you! To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

"I'm trying to find out some information on a witness to a crime here in Cascade, Jerry. Her name is Diandra Pallas, and I was told she was questioned by the FBI as part of a murder investigation about 8 months ago."

Jim could hear Jerry's fingers clicking over the keys on his computer. "Pallas, Pallas…ah, here we are. The murder victim was a young woman by the name of Violette Crane. She was found beheaded in one of the federal parks, here, which is why the FBI was involved. The case is still open by the way. Not much in the file on the Pallas woman, just that she spoke to Crane the night of the murder after her class."

Remembering what Anna Klein had said about the boyfriend, Jim asked, "Who was the investigating agent on the case?"

More key taps filtered through the phone wire. "Oh, this is a good one. This was Spooky's case."

"Spooky?"

"Yeah, Spooky Mulder. He ends up with all the weird shit down in the basement. And now that Mulder's name has entered the picture, there was another beheading a couple weeks after the Crane woman. And what's really nuts, Jim, is that it happened right here in the FBI parking garage, after hours. Let me see if I can pull that record up. Yeah, yeah, this one is still unsolved too. I bet Mulder got his ass chewed good over this one. The woman that was killed? She was a Scotland Yard Inspector. Same MO, forensics said it was done with some kind of sword, though there were quite a few differences in the crime scenes, and the ME didn't think the same sword was used on both victims. Something about the edges being different."

"Jerry, I can't tell you how helpful you've been."

"Say, you haven't had any beheadings out there have you?"

"No, no, and I sure hope we don't. Do you have a number where I can reach Agent Mulder?" Jim wrote the number down when his friend gave it to him. "Thanks again, Jerry." He disconnected the call and leaned back in his chair.

Well, well, well, this was becoming very interesting. He now had one professor who helped coach a fencing team linked to two murders committed with swords. Agent Mulder must have been blind not to see any connection. "Ah, but you're forgetting, Jim, he was sleeping with her," he reminded himself. "And that makes a hell of a lot of difference." So would Mulder have looked the other way? A good question and one Jim would be sure to ask him.

* * *

The sound of insistent knocking woke Diandra. Groggily, she sat up, rubbing her cheek where the ribbed pattern of the sofa cushion had imprinted itself. She stumbled to the door, tripping over her shoes, which were still lying where she had dropped them the night before. Kicking them out of the way with a muttered oath, she opened the door to find Blair waiting patiently, his arms full of groceries, his face beaming. "Good morning," he said cheerfully. "Are you feeling better?" Without waiting for her reply, he continued. "I picked you up some stuff, since you never did get any supplies last night. Just the basics, milk, eggs, bread, coffee…"

At the mention of coffee, Dee grabbed his arm and dragged him inside, pulling him into the kitchen. "You don't know how much I need a shot of caffeine," she told him. "You're a life saver." As Blair set his packages down on the counter, she leaned over and impulsively kissed him on the cheek. He flushed beet red, but Dee had already turned away, hunting for the coffee maker, which she located under the sink. Setting it on the cabinet top, she plugged it in. "Would you mind?" she asked, waving her hand towards it. "I really need to take a shower and get out of these clothes."

"Sure, no problem," Blair replied, biting back the first suggestive answer that came to his mind. Giving him a broad smile, Dee headed upstairs. A few moments later, he could hear her cursing, followed by a thump, then she called over the railing, "It's okay, I just forgot the mattresses were in front of the bathroom door." The sound of running water filled the loft shortly thereafter. Humming softly to himself, Blair set about unpacking the groceries and locating her dishes.

When Dee came downstairs again, having changed into biking shorts and a T-shirt and pulled her still damp hair up in a ponytail, she found Blair had cleaned off her dining room table and set it with a small feast. There were bagels and cream cheese, strawberries, grapes, orange slices, and melon arranged artistically on a large platter. He'd even managed to find two coffee mugs and her silverware. 

She paused in the passageway between the studio and the entertainment center to compose herself. "Oh, Lobo," she thought, "you are making it so easy for me to fall for you, and that wouldn't be good for either of us." She felt the rush of emotion hit her then, painful memories of what her involvement with Fox had done to him. She would not make that mistake again; Blair was already too precious to her. Swallowing past the large lump in her throat, she entered the dining area. "Hey," she said quietly. 

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Glancing up at her almost shyly through his wire-rimmed glasses, he said, "I hope you're hungry."

"Starving," she replied, pulling out a chair and taking a seat. Blair brought over the pot of coffee and filled her mug for her. 

Seating himself, Blair reached for a bagel and proceeded to spread it with cream cheese. "So, what are your plans for the day? If you want, I can take you over to the university and show you around."

Dee sipped at her coffee and considered the offer. "That sounds great, but not today. I still have a long way to go to get this place straightened up. Putting the bed together is the first item on my list. In case I have to save the world again today, I'd like somewhere a little more comfortable to crash afterwards."

"I could help you," Blair said immediately. "Four hands will get the job done in half the time."

She felt herself smiling at his boundless enthusiasm. "I'm not going to pass that offer up. But are you sure you have the time, Lobo?"

"Yeah, I'm not teaching at all this summer, just working on my paper. If I wasn't helping you, I would be at the library, or down at the station with Jim."

At the mention of Jim's name, Dee began to reconsider accepting his offer. She didn't want to come between the Sentinel and his Guide. "Are you certain he won't need you today?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah, he told me he was going to catch up on his backlog of paperwork today. Normally I help him with that, but he said he didn't need me this time." A slight frown crossed his face as he said it, as if he had just realized Jim had blown his help off on purpose.

"If that's the situation, then okay, I'd gladly welcome your help," Dee said.

After breakfast, they began work in the master bedroom, Blair volunteering to put together the bed frame. After a few minutes studying the instructions, he gave up and asked Dee for her help. Taking the sheet of paper from him, she quickly translated the instructions from Japanese to English for him. That small feat started a conversation about the various places around the world each of them had visited. They had many of the same places in common, most notably the South Pacific islands. Diandra had spent more time in Europe, while Blair had her beat when it came to visits to Latin America. The time passed quickly as they worked as a team, enjoying each other's company.

Finally the bedroom and bath were completed to Dee's satisfaction, and they headed down the stairs to tackle what she referred to as the studio, the large open area between the living room and the upstairs section of the loft. Once most of the large crates were opened, and objects uncovered, Blair discovered she had enough workout equipment to fill a gym. There was a Universal weight machine, free weights, a heavy punching bag, workout mats, and an assortment of gear Blair couldn't even begin to label. Dee opened a six-foot long box and spilled out four wooden poles onto the ground. Blair watched as, smiling, she flipped one up into her hands with her foot, and moved easily through what appeared to be a complex fighting pattern, the staff whistling through the air.

"Guess you're probably wondering about all this," she said, whirling the staff around her head and bringing the end down with a sharp crack on the floor. "I've studied martial arts for years; it's a wonderful way to keep in shape."

"Is that what the sword in your coat is for?" Blair asked. "Keeping in shape?" He immediately regretted the accusatory tone his voice held, but she seemed not to have noticed it.

Diandra carried the staff over to where he stood against the wall, and slid it into a bracket that he now saw was clearly shaped for it. "Partly for exercise," she answered him, "and partly for protection. You'd be surprised at how many muggers turn and run when you draw a sword on them." She gave him a smile. "I've fenced for many years too. I even helped coach the fencing team at the last university I taught at. And I've been a sword collector for a long time. Would you like to see my collection?"

"Sure," Blair replied, and watched as she walked over to the stack of cases he had helped her carry in the day before. One by one, she set them on the floor and snapped open the latches. Each case held two or three swords, of all different types and sizes. Blair recognized sabers, broad swords, foils, epees, a scimitar, a rapier, and two katanas. As he was looking them over, Dee left the studio and came back a moment later, carrying her black trenchcoat. Reaching inside it, she drew a third katana, and showed it to him. 

"This is my favorite," she told him, her eyes lighting up the way he knew his own did when looking at important artifacts. "It's over 1000 years old."

Blair stared at the graceful curve of hand folded steel and the elaborately carved ebony hilt. "You're kidding!" he managed finally. "It should be in a museum."

Dee nodded slightly, taking a few steps back from him and lazily rolling the sword from over to underhand with a twist of her wrist. "Probably," she told him, "but I can't help but feel that a tool of such beauty and elegance can only be appreciated when it's used, much the same way a Stradivarius violin needs to be played to keep it's rich tone. If left to molder in some display case, it would eventually deteriorate."

Blair could understand Dee's opinion. He had often felt himself that objects on display in museums were of no educational value if the person viewing them had no conception of how the item had been used. He watched Dee work through some passes with the sword, impressed with the way it became a natural extension of her body. He realized her grace and rhythm could only have come from years of training. 

Ending her impromptu workout, Dee mounted the katana on the wall, and turned to Blair. "I think we've done enough for today, and I'm getting hungry. How about I treat you to lunch at the restaurant of your choice, Lobo?" Quickly agreeing, Blair chose a pub just down the street from the loft, for it's convenience, and the fact that neither of them would have to bother with changing their clothes. 

Dee waited in the hall while Blair grabbed his backpack, and then they headed to the restaurant. Once inside, and seated in a corner booth, they gave their orders to the waitress. After she had returned with their drinks, Blair pulled a notebook and pen from his backpack. Dee took a sip of her Pepsi and raised an eyebrow at him.

Pulling out his glasses, Blair slipped them on, then flipped through his notebook until he came to a blank page. Glancing up, he caught the quizzical look she was giving him. "I thought I would ask you about the Amazons' Champion and Companion," he told her. "If you don't mind," he hastily added.

Leaning back in her seat, Dee smiled at him. "No, I don't mind, in fact, I was wondering how to bring the subject up."

Now it was Blair's turn to be puzzled. He shrugged it off, though, and asked his first question. "Tell me about the Champion. Did he…I mean, she, have all five heightened senses?"

Dee nodded. "Yes, taste, touch, sight, smell and hearing. Often the Champion was also the most skilled warrior in the nation, but not always. Sometimes that distinction fell to the Companion."

Blair looked up from his writing. "You mean the Guide was a warrior?"

Folding her hands together on the table, Diandra settled into professor mode. "All Amazons were warriors, Lobo. They had to be, to defend their homes. Most of them had other trades as well, but there was a standing army, and the Champion and Companion were an integral part of it."

Blair chewed the end of his pen for a moment. The idea of a guide as a warrior was not a new one to him. Incacha had definitely been one, as well as a shaman, but Blair had never considered that the Guide might be a better fighter than the Sentinel. He had been applying his own experiences to all sentinels and guides, and now he was beginning to see the error in his thinking. After dutifully noting that thought, he looked up at Dee, who was waiting for him to finish writing.

"I…" he started, then changed his mind. "Go on," he said.

"The reason the Companion, or Guide, was trained to fight was to protect the Champion. A village depended greatly on them for survival, and it was only right that the Companion, by necessity always with the Champion, be able to defend her." She could still see a somewhat stunned look on his face. This is a new idea to him? Did his sentinel not really want his guide's help? Unbelievable.

Dee tried a new approach. "Okay, maybe it would be easier to understand if I explained the Amazon method of fighting." She grabbed the salt and pepper shakers, and placed them side by side in the center of the table. "Amazons fought in pairs; each warrior guarding the other's back. They ate together, trained together, lived together. It's what made them almost unstoppable in battle."

"Like the Spartans," Blair interjected.

"Yes, exactly. The idea that the person a fighter was protecting was a loved one, rather than a stranger, was a powerful motivator. It was even more so for the Champion and Companion," Diandra leaned across the table to emphasize her next point, "for their souls were so closely intertwined that the nation considered them one entity. If one died, the other often simply refused to go on, either dying on the same battlefield, or throwing themselves on the funeral pyre of their soulmate. If they didn't kill themselves, they were never the same afterwards, some of them sliding into insanity with no Guide to help them control their senses."

Blair felt his stomach begin to tie itself up into knots, and he knew he wouldn't be able to eat the salad the waitress had just placed in front of him. "Is there….was there any way to prevent that from happening?" he finally managed to ask.

Dee took a bite of her own salad and chewed slowly, considering her answer. "The only solution is prevention. A guide and sentinel must do everything they can to work together as a team, to watch each other's backs, to fight as one. Both champion and companion are better at their jobs when they know the other is safe, and how better to know that, than to be fighting side by side?"

Blair wrote her last words down, underlining them to emphasize their importance. How he would convince Jim of that fact, he didn't know. He picked a bite of chicken out of his salad and nibbled at it, trying to come up with a question that would not lead back along these same morbid lines. After forcing the chicken down with a large swallow of iced tea, he finally said, "The Peruvian guides were also shamen. Was this true of the Amazon champions as well?"

"It wasn't a requirement, no. Each Amazon village had their own priestess, who conducted services in the names of Artemis and Athena, their two primary goddesses, as well as giving tribute to the other gods when necessary. But some champion/companion pairs did have spiritual powers as well, and what you are thinking of as a shaman's power was not restricted to just the Companion. I have records of a champion who was a priestess before she was gifted with her true calling, and she retained her ability to visit the spirit world and divine the truth as the Champion."

They ate in silence for a while, Blair trying to reconcile what she had told him with his relationship with Jim. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that what she had told him made a lot of sense. Jim always wanted him to stay in the truck because he was afraid he would get hurt. Blair always wanted to be with Jim, because he was afraid of something happening to him. They would keep chasing their tails over this until they finally surrendered to the idea that they were no longer two separate people, that they were now two halves of a whole, and in order to remain that way, they would have to learn to face danger together. The notion was a difficult one for even Blair to grasp, and he wondered how he would explain it to Jim.

"A penny for your thoughts," Dee said, interrupting his contemplation.

Blair did not want to discuss his specific Guide/Sentinel relationship with her, so said the next thing that came to mind. "I…uh, I'm still a little shaken up by last night. Sorry."

"If you want to talk about it, I was there too. I understand what you're going through," she said sympathetically. 

"I…It's just that I feel so stupid. I mean thanks for saving my life, but you wouldn't have had to except for my own stupidity."

Dee frowned, puzzled. "What are you talking about, Lobo?"

"I remembered exactly what happened when I was struggling with Danny for the gun. I was the one who accidentally pulled the trigger. I shot myself!" Blair shook his head in disgust. "Sometimes I just feel so useless, man!"

Reaching across the table, Dee covered his clenched fist with her hand. "You don't have to feel that way, Lobo." Come on, Blair, she silently urged him. Make the first move, let me help you, let me help you help your sentinel.

"I don't?" he asked, turning pain-filled blue eyes on her.

"No, you don't. I'm a teacher; let me teach you how to handle that kind of situation, how to defend yourself, how to defend your partner."

"Jim doesn't need my help." Blair was surprised at how bitter his voice sounded.

"Hmmm, doesn't need it, or refuses to accept it? A lot of big guys are that way. They're used to doing everything on their own, and their macho bullshit has them insisting a bullet wound is just a paper cut."

Blair jumped in hastily to correct her. "I didn't mean it like that, Dee. Jim appreciates what I bring to this partnership, he does. It's just that he's over protective. He doesn't want me to get hurt. Sometimes I think he thinks I can't take care of myself, like last night."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I…" Blair's gaze dropped to the table. "Sometimes I think he may be right. It seems like every time I turn around, I'm getting injured, or kidnapped, or being used as a pawn. And I'm just so tired of it," he said, resignedly. 

"I can help you. I can teach you what you need to know, teach you to have confidence in yourself again, in your physical abilities, not just in your mind. You need references, I'll give 'em to you."

Looking up into her face, Blair could see that for some reason, this was important to her, he was important to her. "I…I'll think about it, Dee."

"That's good. Thinking about it is good. And you know I won't teach you anything you don't want to know."

"No swords," Blair said emphatically.

"No swords," she agreed. "Just self defense. How to disarm someone without shooting yourself."

Blair felt a laugh bubble up from some forgotten part of himself. "Definitely need to know that one." 

Dee released his hand with a giggle, and went back to eating her lunch. She felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and knew she was following the path the fates had set her on so long ago.


	3. Chapter 3

The sound of the phone ringing cut through the stillness of the basement office. Dana Scully jumped in her chair, her concentration on the autopsy report broken. "Mulder, can you get that?" she asked, then realized she was talking to an empty room. Remembering he had gone to a meeting with Skinner thirty minutes ago, she reached across his desk and picked up the phone. "Scully."

There was a slight hesitation on the other end of the line, then a male voice said, "My name is Jim Ellison. I'm a detective with the Cascade, WA police department. I was trying to reach Agent Mulder."

Scully opened her desk drawer and grabbed a pencil. "Agent Mulder is out of the office right now. I'm his partner, Agent Scully. Is there something I can help you with?"

Sitting at his desk in Major Crimes, Ellison pondered his options. He decided to find out what Mulder's partner thought of Diandra Pallas. After all, who better to observe whether or not his relationship with Dr. Pallas had impeded the investigation into the two murders? He started with a simple request for data.

"I'm trying to get some information about a woman named Diandra Pallas, Agent Scully."

Scully felt her heart stop. What could have possibly happened to Dee? She wasn't dead, she wasn't dead; she couldn't be dead. Dana let the breath she had been holding out slowly. Dee was a skilled fighter; her teacher was fine, she told herself. This Detective Ellison is just digging. "Why do you need to know about Dr. Pallas?" she shot back, pleased that her voice did not betray the small knot of fear still clutching her chest.

Jim had clearly heard the woman's heart begin to race at the moment he mentioned Pallas' name. That was curious; Diandra's friend had told him she had been involved with Mulder, not Scully. Perhaps Agent Scully had a reason to be afraid of Diandra. Or afraid for her, his brain tossed out, just as he resumed the conversation. "Dr. Pallas was witness to a crime here in Cascade, and I was just doing a background check to rule out any possible involvement on her part. I was told she was questioned in regard to two murders in the Washington DC area, and that Agent Mulder was the agent in charge of the investigation."

"Jesus, Dee," Scully thought, "can't you stay out of trouble for five minutes?" To Ellison, she said, "Are you saying there is some similarity between the crime Dr. Pallas was a witness to, and those murders?"

Jim sighed. It was like pulling teeth to get anything out of Agent Scully. "No, I'm not saying that. I'm just asking for a little background on those cases. How was Dr. Pallas involved? Was she ever considered a suspect?"

Scully's suspicions were confirmed. Ellison was just fishing for something he could use against Dee. Well, she wasn't about to give him that satisfaction. "I'm sorry, I can't comment on cases that are currently open. Now if there is nothing further you'd like to ask me, I have work I need to get back to."

There were a hell of a lot of things Jim wanted to ask her, but he knew she wasn't going give him the answers he wanted. "No, I have nothing else. Thank you for your time and cooperation," he said, his sarcasm barely veiled.

"I always believe in helping out the local law enforcement whenever I can, Detective Ellison." Satisfied with the way the conversation had ended, Scully hung up the phone. "Just wait 'til Mulder finds out you've been sniffing around about Dee, Detective," she thought. "You'll be sorry you ever heard her name."

Leaning back in his desk chair, Jim rubbed his temples. He was getting one hell of a headache. Who could have known that a simple background check could turn into such a hassle? Now he had an FBI agent giving him the runaround. He glanced through the info he had already gathered on Diandra. He would try a different tact. The DMV info had given her last address before Cascade as Seacouver. He would see what he could find out from her neighbors there. He looked up the phone numbers for the building she had lived in there, and called the first one on the list.

A man answered the phone. "DeSalvo's Dojo, MacLeod speaking."

Once again, Jim introduced himself, then said, "I'm trying to find out some information on a former tenant in your building, Diandra Pallas."

Immediately, Jim could feel the other man's tension through the wire. His heart rate picked up slightly, but nowhere near what Agent Scully's had. "Is Diandra in some kind of trouble, Detective?" the man asked, his voice even.

"No, she was a witness to a crime. I'm just trying to get some background on her."

"I suggest you speak to Diandra about that. Anything she wants you to know, she'll tell you. She's pretty reasonable that way," MacLeod replied, his sarcasm not lost on Jim. There was a click as he hung up the phone. 

Ellison slammed the receiver down, muttering curses under his breath. Simon, who happened to be passing by, stopped to find out what had his best detective so upset. "What's wrong, Jim?" he asked. 

"Just this check I've been running on Diandra Pallas, Simon. I'm being stonewalled."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Banks leaned against the corner of Jim's desk. "I warned you that might happen when dealing with the military."

Jim shook his head. "That isn't the problem. As far as I can tell, she's never been in any country's armed forces. But she seems to have a readily available cash flow, never stays in one place for very long, and was somehow involved, at least peripherally, with two murders in DC. Of course I can't prove any of this leads to anything criminal, but I can't dismiss what my gut is telling me, Simon. She's bad news."

"Jim, you don't have to convince me. After your behavior on the Barnes case, I'm not going to question your instincts. If you say she's trouble, she's trouble. But until you have something solid to pin on her, I suggest you keep your gut reaction to yourself. All the department needs is another civilian accusing us of harassment."

"Don't worry, Simon, I'm being as discreet as possible. And the way things are going, I'll have it all wrapped up today. What I'll have to show for my efforts will probably be a whole lot of nothing, but at least my conscience will be clear when something does happen." Shaking his head, Simon rose and headed toward his office. 

Jim got up from his desk, and went to the break room for a cup of coffee. When he returned to his desk, he had decided on a course of action. First, he would call the FBI again, and see if he could talk to Agent Mulder, then he would take a run up to Seacouver, and speak with Diandra's old neighbors in person.

* * *

"See you later," Blair said to Dee, as they parted company in the hallway. "Thanks for lunch."

"Thanks for the help," she replied. "Think about my offer to train you. The sooner you make a decision, the sooner we can get started." She gave him a reassuring smile. "And I'll try and find my old dissertation and research materials for you." Unlocking the door to 308, she let herself in.

Blair entered the loft and tossed his keys in the basket next to the door, then headed into his room to drop off his backpack. Entering the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, and pressed play on the answering machine. There was one message, from Jim, telling Blair he had to run to Seacouver to follow up a lead. He expected to be back that night, but Blair shouldn't count on him for dinner. 

Okay, Blair thought, he could use this time alone to his advantage. It had been a long time since he had last meditated, and right now he felt he could use the calm it always brought to his spirit. He got out his aromatherapy candles, and his meditation tape. He turned the ringer off on the phone, and settled himself in the middle of the living room carpet, after lighting the candles, and turning on the tape. Crossing his legs, and resting his hands on his knees, palms up, he closed his eyes, and let his mind and spirit find their center. 

Tall green foliage surrounded him, and in the distance he could hear the sound of running water. He turned around in a circle; the trees surrounded him on all sides. But there was something unusual about the trees…it took him a moment, then he realized they were a mixture of tropical plants and trees found north of the equator. The heat certainly felt like the rain forest, though. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on Blair's bare skin. Bare skin? Glancing down at himself, he found he was clothed in the garb of a shaman, a cloth sarong wrapped around his waist, and leather sandals on his feet. A medicine pouch hanging from a thong around his neck completed the outfit.

He had only a moment to take all of this in before the whistling shriek of a bird of prey cut through the air. His eyes searched the jungle for source of the sound, finding a red falcon perched on a tree limb twenty feet above his head, its brilliant blue eyes studying him. Blue eyes? 

A flash of silver fur streaking through the undergrowth tore his attention from the bird for a split second. When he looked back, a red haired woman stood on the branch, one hand shading her eyes as she gazed down at him. Without warning, she stepped off the branch, tucking her body in a mid-air somersault before landing gracefully in front of him. 

Tongue-tied for one of the few times in his life, Blair could only stare at the woman, his eyes taking in her short stature (she was at least five inches shorter than he was), her red hair hanging in a long braid down her back, and the simple gold circlet adorning her brow. She was dressed in a green tunic, over which she wore leather and brass armor. Over her shoulder was slung a long bow, a strap holding a quiver of arrows on her back. Gloves encased her hands, leather bracers covered her arms and wrists, and high padded boots protected her from calf to mid thigh. 

Finally finding his voice, Blair asked, "Who are you?"

"I am the Companion," she replied, her softly accented voice reassuring him. "I am here to show you the path you must take. Whether or not you choose to follow it is up to you." So saying, she moved off through the brush, following a trail only she could see.

Blair hesitated for a moment, then ran after her. After what seemed like miles of walking, the Companion led him into a clearing, in the center of which stood the ruins of a stone temple. "I recognize this," Blair said, "this is the Sentinel temple in Mexico."

The Companion nodded. "It is here that you must make your choice," she said.

The black jaguar appeared then, at the top of the stairs to the temple. He threw back his head and screamed. Blair had never heard a sound so full of rage. The shadows began to move, growing and changing into sinister shapes, encircling the great cat. As Blair watched, one of the wraiths reached out for the feline, its touch leaving long red claw marks on the midnight flank. The cat whirled to face its attacker, but was struck again from behind, and Blair realized there was no way the jaguar could hope to win this fight, at least not alone.

As quickly as the thought had formed in his mind, a large silver streak leapt up the crumbling steps of the temple. As it took its place alongside the jungle cat, Blair saw it was the blue-eyed wolf he knew as his spirit guide. The shadows seemed to shrink back from the two creatures, then they attacked again. This time, the attacks on the jaguar were turned by the wolf's formidable bulk. The cat was then able to counter-attack, using fangs and claws to rip the paper-thin wraiths to shreds. 

Still, the tide of the battle did not seem to be turning in the animals' favor. They were both covered with injuries, and the shadows' strength seemed to be increasing. With a start, he realized the wolf had not been joining in the attack, it had only been using its body as a shield for the black cat. In fact, the wolf could not attack at all, as its jaws were held shut by a heavy muzzle.

Desperately, Blair turned to the Companion. "You have to help them!" he cried. 

The Companion shook her head. "It is not my place to help the jaguar and the wolf now."

A tortured scream from the jaguar cut through any doubts Blair had. "Then give me your bow!" he pleaded with the red haired woman. To his surprise, she complied, pressing the long bow into his hands, and holding the quiver of arrows within his easy reach.

Taking an arrow from her, Blair notched it to the bowstring, took aim, and let fly. The arrow sailed straight and true, piercing one of the nightmare creations, shattering it into a million fragments. As the arrow hit home, Blair heard the snarl of the wolf. The muzzle had disappeared, and it was slashing at the nearest shadow with sharp canine teeth. Within a few minutes, under combined attack from the cat, the wolf, and Blair's arrows, all the wraiths were destroyed.

As the battle ended, the wolf loped down the steps, and over to Blair, coming to sit on its haunches at his feet, its mouth parted in a lupine grin. The jaguar crawled up onto a stone ledge, its rough tongue going to work on its injuries, which were already fading. 

Blair returned the bow to the Companion, thanking her for its use. Smiling, she gazed up at him. "You have made your decision here in the spirit world, Shaman. Now you must make it in the world of the living."

As Blair puzzled over her cryptic comment, the wolf nudged against his knee, and he looked down at it. When he turned back to the place where the small woman had been, she was no longer there. A falcon's scream turned Blair's eyes skyward, and he saw a flash of red winging toward the sun. 

A sharp click brought Blair back to the loft. With a start, he realized the noise had been his meditation tape shutting off. Physically drained, he leaned his head forward into his hands. What in the hell had just happened? He must have fallen asleep and dreamed the whole thing with the wolf, the jaguar, and the Companion. She had seemed so real, though. He shook his head. There was no way he had gone for a walk in the spirit world. Communing with the animals was Jim's scene, not his. 

Rising to his feet, he gathered up his meditation materials, and set about cleaning the apartment to get his mind off the strange experience.

* * *

Picking up the phone again, Jim dialed the number he had been given for Agent Mulder's office, hoping that Mulder, and not his stubborn partner would answer the phone. Luck was with him, because the phone was answered on the fifth ring by a male voice snapping, "Mulder."

"Agent Mulder," Jim began, "I'm glad I caught you in. My name is Jim Ellison, and I work for the Cascade, WA PD."

"Ah, Detective Ellison," Mulder replied. "My partner told me you called. So you're interested in Diandra? Let me warn you, Detective, you are opening Pandora's box. Are you sure you want to go there?"

Jim wrote "nut" down next to Mulder's name in his notes. "Look, all I want is some information on her."

Mulder grinned at Scully across his desk. "Okay, Ellison, I'll play along with you. What do you want to know?"

Finally, he was getting somewhere. "You questioned Dr. Pallas regarding two beheadings in the DC area…"

"No," Mulder said, "I didn't."

"You didn't?"

"No, I only questioned her about one beheading, that of Violette Crane."

"And did you consider her a suspect?"

Mulder laughed, a short, sarcastic bark. "If I'd considered her a suspect based on the evidence we had, I'd have to consider myself a suspect, too. I was with her when she spoke to the woman on the night she was killed."

Jim frowned. This interview was not going well. "So you're saying there was no evidence to connect her to the murder."

"That is correct, Detective."

"And the other murder, that of the Scotland Yard Inspector? There was no evidence to connect her to that?" As he mentioned the inspector, he could hear Mulder's heart rate quicken for the first time in their conversation.

"No, there was no evidence to connect her to that. Dee had never met the woman. In fact, she was with my partner at the time."

Jim sighed. This was turning out to be another dead end. He had one more card to play. "I understand you were involved with Dr. Pallas. What can you tell me about her as a person?"

"What can I tell you about Dee as a person? She is her own woman, Detective Ellison. She lives by her own code of conduct. She defines the word integrity. If you are her friend, you will be under her protection for life; if you are her enemy…" Mulder left Jim to draw his own conclusions. "She saved my partner's life, Detective, and for that, I will be forever indebted to her. And I have to warn you, if you persist in digging into her background, you will find she has some formidable friends to protect her," he said. "Not that she needs protection from the likes of you," Mulder thought to himself.

Jim figured he'd gotten all he was going to get from him, which wasn't much more than he had started with. "Thank you for your time, Agent Mulder," he said.

"Always glad to help out," Mulder answered cheerfully, and then Jim was listening to a dead phone line. 

What was it with this woman? He hadn't gotten the impression that Mulder had been lying about her possible involvement in two murders, but Jim hadn't missed the fact that Mulder had only spoke of "no evidence", not "no suspicion". And he found it entirely too coincidental that she had saved Agent Scully's life as well as Blair's. Once again he was left with twice as many questions as answers. Shutting off his computer, Jim grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. Maybe he would get some answers in Seacouver.

* * *

After Diandra parted company with Blair, she went back to organizing her new home. She hung the rest of her sword collection on the display wall, and put the carrying cases away in one of the spare rooms on the lower level under the master bedroom. She planned on turning one into an office and the other into a guest bedroom, but she hadn't purchased any furniture for them yet.

Running across her boom box in one of the cartons she was unpacking, she decided it was time for a break. Digging out one of her favorite CDs, she loaded it in the player, and the Latin rhythms of Santana filled the apartment. Walking to the center of the studio, she began moving through a martial arts kata, slowly at first, feeling her muscles stretch and warm to the task. Picking up the pace, she utilized the full length of the room, her actions timed to the beat of the music. Grabbing her katana from the wall, she added it to the drill, her body flowing through the familiar motions, while her thoughts drifted once again to Blair.

A smile flickered across her face, as she remembered his sweet, thoughtful gesture from that morning. His youth, enthusiasm for life, and caring nature reminded her very much of Lydia, and she found herself missing the way the Amazon had lit up her world. Sometimes she felt her long life was a curse, that it had jaded her by inuring her to the joys of everyday living. Then someone like Blair crashed into her life, turning it upside down and making everything new again.

After decades of being alone, of deliberately isolating herself from the world and the Game in the Outback of Australia, she had been unsure of her decision to stay in the modern world. Now she knew her choice had been the right one. For a long time, she had thought the fates had made her a great cosmic joke, gifting her first with her "other" sight, then with immortality, forcing her to flee from her sheltered life as an Oracle to the uncertainty and danger of the Amazons' world. In time she had come to realize the fates had given her powers suited to the tasks she was faced with, pitting her against obstacles which only someone with her abilities and experience could overcome.

Now was no different. Something was coming; she could feel it in her bones. She was in Cascade for a purpose, and it had nothing to do with teaching Greek history to college students and everything to do with Blair Sandburg. Unless, of course, she was wrong, as she had been with Fox, and Blair's effect on her was blinding her to the real reason for her being there. She began her cool down, vowing silently not to hurt Blair the way she had hurt Fox.

Finishing her workout, she walked into the kitchen, and poured a glass of water from the bottle in the refrigerator. She glanced at the boxes still stacked in the corner, and absent-mindedly opened one, discovering her telephone on top of the items packed inside. Taking it out, she set it on the counter, and plugged the cord into the jack on the wall. She turned back to the box, and nearly jumped out of her skin when the phone rang. "Guess that means it's turned on," she said to herself. 

Putting the receiver to her ear, she said, "Hello!"

"Dee! Thank god! I've been trying to reach you all afternoon but you haven't been answering the phone!"

"Estrellita! It's good to hear from you too!" Diandra replied, teasing her student. "I just now found the phone and plugged it in. I'm fine, Dana. Sorry if I worried you."

Dana Scully relaxed in her chair, and mouthed "She's fine," to Mulder. He nodded in acknowledgment and went back to his computer. "Dee, the reason I've been trying to get a hold of you is because Mulder and I had a phone call this afternoon from Detective Ellison of the Cascade PD. I don't know what you did to set him off, Dee, but he's been doing some serious digging. He was asking questions about the Crane woman and Phoebe."

She felt the floor drop out from under her. "What?!" she exclaimed, leaning against the counter for support. "How in the hell did he find out about that? If he wanted to know anything, all he had to do was ask! He's my next door neighbor, for god's sake!" 

"Your neighbor? Dee, you just moved in; are you pissing off the locals already?"

"I guess so," she replied, feeling her shock changing slowly to anger. "I save his partner's life, and this is the thanks I get. I think Detective Ellison and I are going to have a little chat."

Dana had seen her mentor's temper in action. "Dee, don't do anything that's going to get you in more trouble," she said. "Mulder and I dealt with him. He's not going to find out anything about you from the FBI. We just wanted to warn you he was poking around."

Sighing, Diandra said, "Thanks for the warning, Dana. And tell Mulder I said 'hi'. Talk to you later." 

The second she hung up the phone, it rang again. "Now what?" she wondered. Picking it up again, she said, "Hello."

"Diandra." The familiar voice was tight, as if the caller were trying to keep his irritation under control.

"Duncan! What a pleasant surprise! Tell me you're calling with good new--"

"Diandra, I have just had the most unpleasant conversation with a very annoying, pushy, Cascade Police Detective. It was not enough for him to hear my 'no comment' over the phone, he had to DRIVE to Seacouver and annoy me in person. What in the hell kind of trouble are ye in now?" he said, his Scottish brogue showing in his frustration.

"Duncan," she said, "I am really, really sorry. I had no idea Ellison would be this much trouble. Dana called right before you did; he's already talked to her and Mulder. I don't know what he's looking for; all I did was save his roommate's life last night, and now he's asking questions about DC."

"Saved his roommate's life how, Dee? By cutting off someone's head?"

She leaned her elbow on the counter, and rested her head on her hand. "I healed him," she said so softly MacLeod almost didn't hear her. "I didn't have a choice, Duncan. He would have died if I hadn't helped him. And I couldn't let that happen. He's too important."

MacLeod could never stay angry at the dark haired Immortal. "I'm sorry, Diandra. I didn't mean to imply you should have let him die. You know I trust your judgment."

"I know, Duncan. It's just been a rough two days. I'm beginning to think I should have taken you up on your offer to stay in Seacouver."

"You know that offer still stands," MacLeod said gently.

"I know. But the time isn't right. I don't know when it will be, but I just know it isn't now. Look, I'll give you a call after I get this all straightened out and maybe you can come down to Cascade for a couple days. I'm in serious need of a good workout."

"Is that all I am to you? A sparring partner?" Duncan laughed.

"Of course, Duncan. You know I only spar with people I can beat the pants off of."

"We'll see about that. Until next time, Dee." MacLeod hung up the phone.

She stood for a moment in the disaster of her kitchen, feeling like a hand was slowly tightening its fingers around her heart. She had felt so positive, so sure of the direction she was taking. Now all she wanted to do was pack everything back in boxes, and run. With a cry of rage, she flung the phone across the room, smashing it into the door.

* * *

Blair was entering the loft again, after taking the trash downstairs to the dumpster, when he heard a scream and then a loud crash come from Diandra's apartment. Stepping across the hallway, he knocked loudly on the door, calling out, "Dee, are you okay?"

The door was flung open suddenly, and an obviously upset Diandra appeared in the opening. "Dee, what's the matter, what's wrong? I heard a noise and--"

"Your roommate is what's the matter," she hissed. "He's been running a background check on me!" 

Blair was shocked. "I'm sorry, Dee, I didn't know anything about it. If he had told me what he was going to do, I would have talked him out of it. How did you find out?" 

Stepping back, she allowed him to enter. "I have friends who care about me. As soon as Ellison spoke with them, they called me. Unfortunately, I didn't plug the phone in until a few minutes ago. I guess he's been at it all day; he's had time to call the FBI, and drive up to my old apartment in Seacouver to interrogate my friend there. Duncan was NOT amused." Realizing she had been clenching her hands into fists, she forced herself to uncurl her fingers.

The action did not go unnoticed by Blair. "I am sorry," he repeated again. "I'm sure Jim thought he was only looking out for me--"

"Jesus, Lobo, if this is his way of showing how much he appreciates me saving your life, I'd hate to see what he does to people who've hurt you. I'd have gladly told him whatever he wanted to know if he'd just bothered to ask." She whirled away from him, bending to pick up the pieces of the broken telephone from the floor. 

"Look, Dee," Blair said, trying to calm her, "I'll talk to Jim about it when he gets home."

"Talk to me about what, Chief?" came the familiar voice from the open doorway.

Diandra's back was to the door, and Blair saw her stiffen at the sound of Jim's voice. She rose slowly to her feet, her body language shifting from annoyance to controlled anger. As she turned around, her blue eyes smoldering, Blair realized for the first time that she was seriously dangerous.

"Busy day, Detective?" she said in way of greeting, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jim looked from her expressionless face to Blair's worried one. "Am I missing something here?" he asked.

"Did you find all the answers you were looking for today? Oh, don't look so surprised, Detective. I know all about your phone calls to the FBI and your little fishing trip to Seacouver. I hope Duncan threw you out on your ass." The slight flush that rose on Ellison's cheeks confirmed her words. "I see he did."

Setting the broken phone down on the kitchen counter, Dee moved through the living area into the studio, dragging a large workout mat into the middle of the floor. "Blair and I had an interesting conversation this morning, while you were busy checking me out. He told me all about you being a hotshot army ranger, surviving in the jungles of Peru. Let's just see if you live up to your reputation." Padding barefoot into the center of the mat, she pulled her T-shirt off, exposing the spandex tank top underneath, and waited.

Blair and Jim had both followed her into the studio, curious as to where she was heading. "Oh, come on, Detective, don't tell me you can't defeat a mere woman in hand to hand."

Jim moved further into the studio, his eyes quickly taking in the workout equipment and the impressive display of weapons on the wall. He took a good look at Diandra, noting her easy, confident stance, and the tight, toned muscles of her legs, arms, and stomach. He sized up his chances, knowing he had an advantage of three inches in height and fifty pounds on her. He thought he could take her. Slipping off his shoes, he stepped onto the mat.

"Jim," he heard Blair say in a voice only a Sentinel could hear, "Jim, she's an expert. This is stupid. Don't do this."

Ignoring the warning of his guide, Ellison returned her ceremonial bow, and they began to circle each other, looking for an opening. She threw the first punch, which he easily blocked with a forearm. They traded blows in quick succession, each one quickly blocked by the other. Seeing an opening in her defense, Jim took it, aiming a savage left at her head. Instead of blocking as she had done before, Diandra stepped to the side, grabbing his wrist as it went past, holding it as she planted a solid kick to his now unprotected ribs. Releasing him, she danced back out of range, waiting until he regained his balance before she struck again. Jim let her close enough to land the blow on his shoulder, hoping to grab her in the same way she had him. Instead, she used her momentum to carry her past him, whirling out of reach of his hands, while snapping a savage kick to his right knee. Knocked off stride by the kick, Jim was slow to recover, and it cost him. A two handed blow between the shoulders doubled him over her waiting knee. His breath exploded from his lungs and spots danced in front of his eyes. Struggling to his feet, he was rewarded with another kick to his already injured knee, and as he went down, he felt her arm come around his throat from behind, holding him helpless in a choke hold.

"Is this what you wanted to know, Detective Ellison? How I could take out two armed men in under thirty seconds?" she growled. Her grip on his neck tightened. "This is how. I would have been happy to tell you I've been a martial arts master for more years than I care to admit, but you would rather go poking around in my past."

Jim struggled to get enough air into his lungs to speak. He could see Blair standing at the edge of the mat, his hands curled into fists, his eyes fearful, but he held himself in check, not wanting to give her any reason to hurt his partner any further. "Who the hell are you?" Jim wheezed.

She pressed her face close to his, whispering in a voice he couldn't have heard without his heightened senses, "I am Diandra of Delphi, Ch--" Her words cut off abruptly, as she saw the black mare out of the corner of her eye. She was rearing back on her hind legs, her sharp front hooves pawing the sky, before crashing down inches from the skull of a cowering black jaguar. The horse's screaming cry of triumph deafened Dee, and she let go of Jim, stepping back as if she had been burned, shaking her head to clear the vision. When she opened her eyes again, the mare was gone, and Blair was helping Jim to his feet, asking if he was hurt.

Jim shook his head in response to Blair's inquiry, even though his ribs ached, and he could feel his knee swelling. Turning slowly, he looked back at Diandra. She stood in the middle of the mat, her back straight, every inch the conquering warrior, and her eyes he could swear were glowing with a brilliant blue fire. 

"Stay out of my way, Ellison," she warned, "and I'll stay out of yours." She didn't move until Blair and Jim had left the apartment, closing the door behind them. Then she collapsed to her knees, tears spilling down her face. She knew what the black mare meant, and she couldn't go through it again, she couldn't.

* * *

Entering the loft, Jim sat down on the couch, wrestling with his pain dials. Diandra hadn't hurt him badly, but his aching ribs and knee were only adding to his self-disgust. Blair headed to the kitchen, and Jim could hear him filling a plastic bag with ice. Crossing to where Jim sat on the sofa, Blair handed him the ice without a word, simply glaring at him, his hands on his hips.

Jim finally broke the silence. "Okay, Chief, you were right and I was wrong. That was a stupid thing to do."

"Yeah," Blair agreed, sitting down next to him, "it was. What were you thinking, running a check on our neighbor? She saved my life last night; that ought to at least give her an advantage over the rest of the people on Jim Ellison's shit list."

"I said I was sorry, Chief."

"Yeah, well, you're talking to the wrong person. Dee is who you should be apologizing to," Blair snorted and turned to stare out the French doors.

"Look, Blair, I know you really like her, but I have my doubts about her. I turned up some things today that set off all my alarms." Jim shifted the ice pack to the other side of his knee.

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like she seems to have an unlimited source of income, never stays in one place too long, and is somehow involved in two murders in DC."

Blair snapped his head around to stare at Jim. "What do you mean, 'involved in two murders'?"

Sighing, Jim went over what he had learned from the FBI. "So you see, they didn't come right out and say she was involved, but the impression I got was that they knew more than they were telling about what happened. And I find it very interesting that she is the only person questioned in the case with any access to swords, and is an expert in their use. I can't believe Mulder didn't pursue his investigation of her further. I think she convinced him to drop it, because of her relationship with him."

Drawing his legs up so he was sitting cross-legged on the couch, Blair leaned his elbows on his knees, and propped his head on his hands. "So you're saying Dee and this Agent Mulder are lovers." His voice held a note of disappointment.

Jim shook his head. "Not anymore, according to Dr. Pallas' colleague at Georgetown, but she could be wrong. Though Mulder did give me the impression their relationship was over." He changed positions on the cushion, and winced as pain shot through his side.

The wince did not go unnoticed by Blair. "Let me take a look at your side, Jim," he said, automatically reaching for Jim's shirt and tugging it loose from the waistband of his pants. Jim obligingly turned the injured area toward Blair. He ran his fingers over it gently. "This is bruising up pretty bad, Jim. Are you sure your ribs aren't broken?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," he replied. "It's just gonna be tender for a few days."

Pulling Jim's shirt back down, Blair said, "I'd say you were pretty lucky then. It could've been much worse."

Jim shook his head. "It wasn't luck, Chief. She was pulling her punches. If she'd wanted to send me to the hospital or worse, she could have. And there was nothing I could've done about it." 

Blair stared at him, not believing his ears. He had watched the fight with his heart in his throat, believing that his sentinel could at least defend himself. To now learn that the only reason Jim wasn't seriously injured was because Diandra had been in complete control of the fight from the start was unsettling to say the least. He had always trusted his Blessed Protector to come through for him in any situation. Now, he realized, there could be a time when he would fail, and it could cost him his life. A shudder ran through him, as he remembered his conversation with Dee, about what happened when a guide/sentinel pair was separated by death. He never wanted to experience that. 

"Jim, if you don't mind," he said, "I'm going to bed." Jim shook his head, and rising from his seat, Blair headed for his room, knowing he wouldn't get much sleep. He had a great many things to ponder, and a decision to make. 

Jim climbed the stairs shortly after Blair had entered his room and shut his door for the night. He undressed and lay down on the bed, but sleep eluded him for a long time. Today had been an eye-opener in more ways than one. He felt like he had been given some kind of test, and he had failed, badly. The fight with Diandra had not done anything to allay his doubts about her, and he was more convinced than ever she was trouble. And yet, there was something about her…what was that Mulder had said? If you're her friend, you're under her protection for life…if you're her enemy…after tonight, Jim knew what she was capable of. He hoped his revealing what he had discovered about her would discourage Blair from hanging around her. And if it had taken getting his ass kicked to keep his guide safe, well, then it was a small price to pay.

When he finally fell asleep, he dreamt of a beautiful meadow of wildflowers nestled among snow-capped mountains, the sun high in a turquoise sky. A black horse galloped through the field, bucking and playing, a silver wolf frolicking at its side. The seemingly innocuous dream disturbed Jim more than any he'd had in a long time.

* * *

Blair was up early the next morning, even before Jim was awake. He fixed himself a cup of coffee, and carried it out onto the balcony, sipping at the hot liquid, and watching the sunrise. He hadn't slept well at all, and when he had, he'd dreamed Jim was in trouble, and he was helpless to come to his aid, much like he had been in the dream he'd had the afternoon before, about the Companion, the wolf and the jaguar. The Companion's words were still fresh in his mind. "You've made your decision here in the spirit world. Now you must make it in the land of the living."

He wasn't naive enough to believe he had really traveled to another plane of existence, but he knew his Freud. There was something bothering him in the real world that was expressing itself in his dreams. He was pretty sure he knew what it was. Ever since he'd met Jim, he'd been afraid Jim would find out he was a fraud, that he really wasn't the big expert on Sentinels that he'd made himself out to be, and that he'd just been making the Guide stuff up as he went along. One of these days, his bullshitting was going to get Jim killed. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a few deep breaths. He really didn't want to think about that ever happening, but unless he took it upon himself to get help, to take that first step towards becoming a real partner to Jim, the odds of something happening to Jim were very high. 

Take last night for instance. If Dee had really wanted to hurt Jim, she could have, and there would have been nothing Blair could have done to stop it. She would have taken him apart with less effort than she had spent on Jim. Thank goodness she had only been interested in humiliating Jim. As frightening as the fight had been, Blair knew in his heart that Dee would not have seriously injured him. She wasn't capable of that kind of maliciousness. 

"But what about what Jim told you? That she was involved in those deaths?" a little voice inside his head reminded him. He couldn't see her doing that, not unless she had a good reason, and from what Jim had said, she didn't know either of the women. Random violence was not Dee's style, evidenced by the way she had methodically and precisely beat up Jim. Blair chuckled to himself. Jim would certainly not agree with that line of reasoning.

"Private joke, Chief?" Jim asked from the doorway. He walked out onto the balcony, dressed in his blue robe, a cup of coffee in his hand.

Turning around, Blair studied his partner, noting the slight limp, and the stiffness with which he carried himself. "Yeah, kind of. How's the knee and the ribs this morning?"

Jim winced at the reminder. "Sore, but I'll manage." He joined Blair in leaning on the balcony railing, and watching the city come to life. He frowned as he caught sight of their neighbor stretching in the parking lot, then jogging off down the sidewalk, her ponytail swinging behind her.

"Hey, there's Dee," Blair said.

"Yeah," Jim replied, "I noticed." Something Diandra had said last night came back to him, something he couldn't make sense of. "Hey, Einstein, where's Delphi?"

"Hmm," Blair said, still distracted by the sight of Dee in jogging shorts and a cropped tank top. "Oh, Delphi? It's in Ohio, unless of course, you are speaking of THE Delphi, which is where Apollo's temple was in Greece. Why do you ask?"

"Just a something Pallas whispered in my ear last night, when she had me in that stranglehold."

Blair turned to stare intently at Jim. "What exactly did she say? I remember seeing her lips move, but I didn't hear anything." A light went on inside his head, but he wasn't going to let Jim know Dee probably knew he was a Sentinel.

"It was kind of cryptic. I asked who she was, and she said, 'I am Diandra of Delphi.' It sounded like she was going to say something else, but then there was this screaming, and she let go of me."

"Screaming? What do you mean, screaming? I didn't hear any screaming!"

"I might have imagined it, Chief. I was suffering from lack of oxygen at the time. But it sounded like some kind of animal."

Blair flashed back to his dream of the injured jaguar. "Was it the big black cat? Your spirit guide?" he asked.

Jim thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No, it was higher pitched, and no snarl to it." He shrugged. "Like I said, I was seeing spots at the time. I could've imagined it."

Somehow Blair didn't think so, but he tucked the information away as one more piece of the puzzle that didn't fit with anything else. Right now he had a big collection of inside pieces, and no edges. Diandra of Delphi…that might be an edge piece. She could have been referring to her native city, except that Jim had said her passport listed her Greek residence as being in Athens. Funny how she didn't have a Greek accent…it was more Aussie than anything else, but when she called him "Lobo", it was with a perfect Spanish accent, and he still wasn't sure what language she used for swearing--

"Chief, are you still with me?" Jim asked.

"Oh, sorry, Jim. Just lost in thought."

"I said I was going to go start breakfast. You want anything?"

He shook his head. "Not right now. I'm going to stay out here for a while longer." Nodding, Jim turned and went back inside. Blair leaned his elbows on the railing and peered down at the street, his eyes following the direction Dee had taken. Diandra of Delphi…he'd read that somewhere a long time ago, some book, or poem, or play. The answer was right there, he just couldn't grab hold of the elusive little thing. He wouldn't worry about it; it would come to him eventually.

* * *

Stepping out of the shower, Dee grabbed a towel and dried off. The early morning run had done her a world of good. Slipping her robe on, she headed downstairs to the kitchen. The five-mile jog had cleared her mind, and she had come to a simple decision. She would not make another overture to Blair about anything. She would concentrate on unpacking the rest of her stuff, and then get started on her teaching curriculum for the fall semester. She had enough to do without taking on another student. After all, hadn't her last one taken up every waking moment of nearly five months? Dana had reminded her how demanding one on one teaching could be, especially when one was trying to cram centuries worth of advice into a couple months.

Thinking of Dana made her smile, as she took the leftovers from yesterday's breakfast out of the fridge. She nibbled on a strawberry as she put coffee in the coffee maker and turned it on to brew. It had been nice hearing from her student, even though she had been calling with bad news. Dee hoped Dana was keeping up with her sword work. If she knew Fox, he was probably making sure she took time to practice every day, even when they were on the road. She knew he'd been consulting with Duncan when he'd come to Seacouver at the end of Dana's training. Probably asking for tips on how to keep her in shape, she laughed to herself. Fox had been no slouch with a sword himself, and she felt sure her pupil could only benefit from her partner's willingness to help out. 

With Dana off on her own again, that had left Dee alone in Seacouver with MacLeod. And while Duncan was a good friend, and she loved him dearly, she had felt the need to move on, to be on her own again. Still, in a way she envied Blair and Jim's closeness. It was nice to have someone to come home to, to talk to at the end of the day. Who was she kidding? She missed the spiritual connection a guide had with a sentinel, the feeling of completeness one could only get with their other half. "Don't go there, Dee," she said out loud. "You don't have an other half anymore."

So a soulmate was out of the question. That didn't mean she was dead. But that meant dating…ugh. They ought to have an Immortal dating service, she thought. That would get all the explanations about the Game and Quickenings and long lifelines out of the way. Having a relationship with a mortal was difficult, as she'd been painfully reminded by her few months with Fox. Hiding her true identity from him had taken its toll, especially when Immortals had been coming out of the woodwork at her. The first had been Kenny and his slaughtering of Pre-Immortal children, then Violette Crane, and finally Dana and Phoebe. The last two had driven a stake right through the heart of her relationship with Fox. Just when she had been about to confide her secrets to him, his partner turns out to be a new Immortal, with no idea of what she was. Phoebe Green had then ruined any chance of Diandra ever making things right with Fox when she'd forced Dee to kill her to save Dana's life. Nothing like killing your lover's old flame by chopping her head off in the parking garage at your beloved's workplace to ruin a relationship, not to mention running off with his partner and disappearing for five months. 

Dana had tried to explain things to him, but the wound had been too deep. Mulder had trusted Dee, and she had betrayed him. He realized she'd done the best she could with an awful situation, but he couldn't forgive her. They were friends, if a man who tolerated her because she was necessary to his partner's keeping her head could be called a friend. 

Dee shook her head. Learn from your mistakes, girl. Keep out of Blair's way, and he won't have a reason to be disappointed in you. She poured her coffee into a mug and added milk and honey. Taking a sip, she thought, "Still, there's a lot he could learn from you. Things that are important for him to know, necessary even, to partner a champion." Mm, and the fringe benefits… She felt the hot flames of desire burning her cheeks. Yes, he is very attractive, and yes he is kind and sweet and adorable, but compared to you, he is a child! "Compared to me, everyone is an embryo," she sighed aloud. Oh, well, she'd made up her mind. She wasn't going to pursue any kind of relationship with Blair, be it as teacher, friend, or lover. That decision she knew would have Ellison doing cartwheels. Gazing around the apartment, she wondered what job to tackle today.

Just as she had decided to forgo any more unpacking for the moment, and take a run over to the university to check out her office and the teaching resources available to her, there was a knock at the door. 

Upon opening it, she found Blair standing in the hallway, bouncing nervously. "Um, Dee, I want to apologize for Jim last night. We had a long talk, and he kind of admitted that maybe he was wrong to have run that background check without talking to you first. Anyway, I was, uh, wanting to know if we could still be friends."

Diandra began to respond, but Blair didn't give her the chance. "Because, um, I've made a decision. I want you to teach me how to protect my sentinel."

* * *

By the time Jim got off the elevator at Major Crimes, he was beginning to think coming to work had been a bad idea. Despite being wrapped in an Ace bandage, his knee was throbbing, and just the friction of his shirt against his skin was sending shooting pain through his ribs. He wrestled with the dials for a moment, and the levels dropped to merely annoying. A small sigh of relief escaped his lips, and he entered the bullpen, heading for his desk.

Just as he was about to sit down, he heard Simon bellow, "Ellison, my office!"

Entering Banks' office, he sank gratefully into a chair across from Simon's desk. Simon glanced up at his detective and did a double take. "You look like hell, Jim. Are you sure you should be here?"

"I'm fine, Simon." Jim growled, then grimaced as his sensitive ribs came in contact with the chair arm.

"Fine, my ass. What happened to you between the time you left last night and now? Did you run into trouble up in Seacouver?"

Jim flashed back on his interview with MacLeod, which had consisted of him asking about Diandra and MacLeod telling him to get out. "No, sir, not in Seacouver."

"Jim, if I didn't know better, I'd swear someone worked you over pretty good." Simon pinned him with an intimidating glare. "If you look this bad, I'd hate to see the other guy."

Ellison sighed. He might as well get this over with. "There's not a mark on her."

Intrigued, Simon leaned back in his chair, and laced his fingers together on top of his stomach. "Now this is a story I have to hear. What happen, you get kicked by a horse?"

"Just my next door neighbor." At Simon's surprised look, Jim continued. "Yes, she found out I ran a background check on her, and was not too happy about it."

"So she took her irritation out on your hide."

"That's about it, yeah."

Simon shook his head. "I should listen to my gut instincts more often. I knew when you mentioned her yesterday that you would get into trouble. Your nose for it is as sensitive as Sandburg's is. And, speaking of your neighbor, and trouble, that's why I called you in here. I received a call from the FBI this morning, complaining about your interference in an ongoing investigation regarding Dr. Pallas."

If Jim could have gotten his hands on anything, he would have thrown it. "God damn it, Simon, that's bullshit. The FBI are looking the other way when it comes to her involvement in those murders; hell, they're protecting her!"

"And with good reason, Jim. It seems she's helped them out on more than one occasion, first with catching a serial killer in North Carolina, and then with stopping some violent attacks in the Seacouver area. She was also part of a group that brought down that European terrorist, Pierce Holmes."

Jim sat back in his chair, stunned. "No one knows who blew his stronghold up and took out Holmes and his followers."

Simon shrugged. "I'm just repeating what I was told. For whatever reason, the FBI wants you to lay off. So I'm making it an order, Jim. No more snooping. Until such time Dr. Pallas actively participates in a crime, you are to leave her alone."

Jim left Simon's office fuming. Didn't anybody see it besides him? She wasn't normal! "But then," he heard his guide's voice inside his head, "neither are you." Jim sat down at his desk and opened one of the files he had ignored yesterday to run the background check. At least he knew she had lost some of the fascination she held for Sandburg. He only hoped it was enough to keep his guide away from her.

* * *

Dee stood in her open doorway, her blue eyes taking in the worried look on Blair's face. Stepping back, she waved him inside and shut the door behind him.

"Please, Dee, say something. I know you're still pissed at Jim, but please don't be angry with me. I want us to still be friends.”

Reaching out, Dee laid her hand on his arm. "Of course I'm not mad at you, Lobo. I'm not really mad at your roommate either. I lost my temper yesterday and I'm sorry. It's just that if your partner decides to make trouble for me here, then I'll have to move again, and I really don't want to do that. I like Cascade, and especially the people in it." She gave Blair a smile.

"Is that why you left Washington, DC? Because you were in trouble?" he asked without thinking.

She pulled her hand back, and her smile slowly faded. "There were a lot of reasons for me leaving, but I left because I had a student that needed my help. And the best place for me to train her was in Seacouver."

"Train?" Blair asked.

"Yes, train. Much like I'm going to do with you."

"Oh, wow, you mean you'll really help me? You'll teach me how to defend myself?" 

Dee felt a smile tugging at her lips again as he fairly radiated excitement. She reminded herself that not five minutes ago she had been vowing to stay away from Blair. "Yes, but I swore I wasn't going to approach him. He's come to me," she thought. "That makes all the difference. It's his decision, I had nothing to do with it." 

"Of course I'll help you, Lobo. It's what I do." As she said the words, she realized once again how true they were. No matter how hard she ran, no matter how well she hid, the fates had always found her and presented her with a problem to solve. From kings and queens seeking advice from the Oracle, to Gods bent on revenge, Amazons in need of a Champion, villages overrun by Crusaders, new Immortals needing the skills she taught, kidnapped friends, troubled FBI agents, and fledgling guides, the fates had lit the path to her door for them. After more than two millennia, she had given up offering more than a token resistance to their wishes. "So be it," she thought. "I am now an instructor of Companions."

Her thoughts returning to Blair, she found him staring at her, trying to hide the grin on his face. Obviously the sight of her in nothing but a blue silk robe that fell only to mid-thigh was highly distracting for him. "There's coffee and stuff in the kitchen for breakfast. Let me go change my clothes, and I'll be right with you." Brushing past him, she headed for the stairs.

"You don't have to get dressed on my account," Blair said softly, then blushed furiously as he realized he'd spoken out loud.

With a throaty chuckle, Dee turned back to him. "There's no reason to be embarrassed. I've looked at you like that on occasion, too. I've just never let you catch me." So saying, she crossed the studio to the stairs, aware of Blair's surprised gaze on her back the whole way.

Blair watched her climb the stairs, then headed for the kitchen. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he picked up an orange from the counter and began to peel it. For the hundredth time he wondered if he was doing the right thing. Jim, he knew, would not approve. Pushing his hair back with one hand, he rubbed his temple. Despite what Jim might think, this was important; he could feel it in his gut, much the same way he had felt when he had met Jim. He knew he had to become part of this man's life, that Jim needed him.

Popping a slice of orange in his mouth, he wondered which would bother Jim more, that he was learning to fight, or that Diandra was his teacher. Probably Dee, he thought. If Jim knew he wanted to learn self-defense, he would insist on teaching Blair himself, and somehow Blair just couldn't be that vulnerable in front of Jim. He sighed. Maybe it was a guy thing, or maybe he really didn't want to know what Jim had learned as a Ranger. He knew Dee was just as, if not more, deadly than his sentinel, but somehow that was different. He didn't sense in her the darkness he sometimes felt in Jim, had felt especially when they had been dealing with Alex Barnes. With Diandra, while he knew she was dangerous, he felt that deadly force would always be a last resort with her, not just one more option available in her arsenal. 

Still, Jim's response to Alex kept coming to mind. "This is nothing like that," he told himself. "I am not going there." There was no reason for Dee to bring that side of Jim to the fore, and yet…Jim had taken an instant dislike to her, much as he had with Alex. And then the thing with Alex had turned into that weird attraction/hate thing. Blair shuddered involuntarily. It had been terrifying to see his sentinel that out of control, acting in response to what Blair had believed were ancient biological drives. 

Enough of this, he told himself and went back to analyzing his own reasons for wanting Dee to teach him instead of his partner. Maybe having Dee work with him was just an excuse to spend time with an intelligent, attractive and available woman. Okay, so that was Jim talking again. He knew what his partner thought of him, that he was a skirt-chasing Romeo. Blair had to admit he hadn't done much to change Jim's opinion of him in that area. But Diandra was different. He felt a connection to her that went beyond the purely physical. He remembered holding her in his arms the night she'd saved his life, feeling her relax and finally sleep as his fingers had stroked her hair. Sitting on the sofa with her curled up next to him, he'd felt…a rightness, a calmness, a peace he'd never felt before. She had felt safe with him too, trusted him enough to allow him that close to her after knowing him for only a few short hours. Unlike Jim, who had thought he was a nutcase when he had first met him. He shook his head. Why did he keep comparing the two of them? 

His jumbled thoughts were interrupted by Dee's return. Stepping over to the counter, she stuck a bagel in the toaster and turned toward him. "You're sure you want to do this, Lobo?"

Blair nodded. "Okay," she replied, "but you should know what you're getting into. The ethic I have always tried to drill into my students is 'If it is worth doing, it is worth doing well.' I won't say that I'm a perfectionist, but I have high expectations. After the first few days, you will probably hate me. But once you reach the point where everything becomes automatic, where the light goes on, and it all makes sense, then you will probably quit plotting to kill me." She gave him a grin, and began to butter her now toasted bagel. "As for what I'm going to teach you, well, I customize my teaching to the student, based on their physical ability, their body type, and their speed and agility. Just from looking at you," she said, circling him slowly, her blue eyes appraising him, "I would say you would do well at kick-boxing. You have strong legs and because of your size and weight, a kick is going to do more damage than a punch."

Blair began to feel a little nervous. "I really don't want to hurt any one--"

Dee smiled at him. "I know what you're feeling, Blair, and it's okay. It's difficult to think of using your skills on someone, but just remember, they are not going to be so sensitive to you. And I will be gearing your lessons toward disabling and subduing an attacker in the quickest way possible. That will be the biggest help you can give your sentinel."

Blair suddenly realized he had told Dee when she had opened the door to him that he wanted to "protect my sentinel." "Um, Dee, about what I said--"

"It's okay. I knew when I met you what you were. And I knew the moment I met Detective Ellison that he was your champion."

Blair stared at her in shock. "How?" he finally managed to ask.

Diandra sighed. "In new age jargon, it's called reading your aura."

"You mean you're psychic along with being able to heal people?"

"It's along story, Lobo, and I'm sure I'll be telling it to you soon, but I call my gift truth divination. I can see the inner truth about people; can't read minds, can't tell the future, but I can always tell when a salesman is trying to gyp me. Believe me, it's not as great as it sounds. Imagine you met this gorgeous girl and wanted to date her, but knew immediately she would dump you as soon as someone with more money came along."

He pondered that for a moment, then said, "I can see where that can lead to loneliness."

"Good thing I'm used to being alone," she laughed, a little bitterly

"Dee," he said seriously, "I would never do that to you."

Reaching out, she brushed the back of her fingers across his cheek. "I know you wouldn't, Lobo." Her dark blue eyes met his, and something intangible passed between them. For Blair, it felt like the soft click of a key turning in a lock, but which one of them was the key and which was the lock, he couldn't tell.

Shaking off the strange sensation, Dee took her bagel and headed for the studio. "Let's see what you already know."

* * *

Three weeks passed quickly for Blair. Late June turned into July, and he found he was spending more time at the university, preparing for the fall semester. Diandra was naturally spending more hours there too, getting her office in order, and planning her lessons. She and Blair had offices in the same building, as Hargrove Hall was home to both the anthropology and the history departments, though they were on different floors.

Blair had been spending most of his free time with her, when he wasn't working with Jim, soaking up her knowledge like a sponge. The training he was receiving had increased his self-confidence greatly, and he was no longer willing to stay in the truck when he and Jim were investigating a case. Jim had been irritated at first at Blair's refusal to obey him, but he sensed an indefinable change in him, a new strength and determination to be his partner in every sense of the word, not just when it was safe. So he hadn't protested too much when Blair became his shadow, always following a pace or two behind, watching his partner's back.

Dee had been true to her word; she was a harsh taskmistress. In addition to self-defense, she insisted Blair needed to build his stamina, forcing him to rise with the sun three times a week and run with her. That had been followed by two hours of martial arts, and, on the days they didn't run, she coached him in weight training. It hadn't taken long for Blair to see and feel the changes in his body, and his mind. He had more energy, and more belief in himself. The first time he dumped Dee on her back on the mat, he felt on top of the world. Of course that was followed by three trips to the mat himself, but it couldn't dampen his feeling of accomplishment. 

Once she felt Blair was sufficiently far enough along in his training, Diandra began teaching him weapons. True to her promise, she didn't put a sword in his hand, but she started to teach him staff work, arguing that almost anything could be used as a staff. A broom or mop, a golf club, a bat, or a pool cue would serve just as well, and his ability to turn an ordinary object into a weapon would be an asset. She also worked on Blair's senses, teaching him to use them as a hunter would, to be aware of his surroundings and the potential dangers they held on a subliminal level. This way the chances of someone sneaking up on him were greatly reduced. 

Blair had worried about Jim's reaction if he found out about Blair working with Dee, but so far he hadn't shown any signs he suspected what was going on. He did know that Blair was running with Dee, but Blair thought he had chalked it up to him trying to make some romantic headway with her, and he was content to let Jim keep that opinion. Part of him did feel guilty for deceiving his partner about his actions, but he knew in his heart Jim really wouldn't understand why he had to do this. Jim had never been the underdog, the class geek, the kid the bullies picked on. Now Blair had a chance to change all that, and he was determined to take it.

Working with Diandra had other benefits as well. She was a font of information about the Amazons' Champion and Companion, and he began to slowly integrate the knowledge he was picking up from her into his sentinel/guide relationship. Each night, when Jim came home from work, Blair would pick something he'd learned about the Champion and discuss it with Jim, asking for his opinion, trying to get him involved in the learning process along with him. To his surprise, some of the time Jim agreed to recreate some of the exercises Dee had told Blair about. While not all of them could be considered smashing successes, they did seem to draw the sentinel and guide closer together, slowly building a bridge across the gap Blair felt had sometimes hindered them.

As for Dee, the more she worked with Blair, the more she felt for him. He was becoming a good friend, one she knew she could trust with all the secrets of her complicated life. In fact, she thought he was beginning to suspect a great deal, especially about her knowledge of the Amazons, and the Champion. He'd asked her once about her opinion on reincarnation, and had smiled to himself when she told him she believed in it. But he never once actually pried, and for that she was grateful. The time was coming when she would have to tell him the truth, but she was glad not to have it hurried along.

More and more she found herself having to fight her attraction for him. He was as beautiful on the inside as he was on the outside, and his genuine caring and affection for her shone through in everything he did. She had her own rules for getting involved with her students, and she was determined not to let him see her feelings until he graduated from her tutelage. That time she knew was drawing near.

She watched him sometimes with his sentinel, opening up her other sight when they were together, noting with pride how the link between them grew stronger with each passing day. Her relationship with Ellison was civil, they said "hello" when they met in the hallway, but that was as far as it went. She could tell her mere presence still bothered him, and in a way he bugged her too, but it was nothing as far as she was concerned. The compulsion to beat the hell out of him was a thousand times weaker than her need to play the Game, and that need had not been strong for many centuries.

Much to her relief, it seemed as though she was the only Immortal in all of Cascade, or at least she had not run across any others of her kind yet, which was fine with her. And after that one appearance when she had been teaching Ellison a lesson, she had not seen the black mare again, either. Still, she couldn't help but feel the mare had been an omen, a portent of things to come. There was no use dwelling on it, though. When the fates were ready for her to know the next part of their plan for her, they would send a clear message. What bothered her most was the feeling that the next step involved danger, and Blair.

* * *

Blair bounded down the steps outside Hargrove Hall, his mind and mouth going a million miles a minute. Dee was following along behind, laughing at his description of the antics that morning at the police station. Reaching the bottom of the stairs first, he turned to see what was keeping her.

Diandra had stopped on the middle of the steps, her brow furrowed in concentration, or perhaps pain. Without warning, she clutched her hands to her head, doubling over and collapsing against the cement railing. When Blair reached her side, she was curled in a fetal position, her whole body telegraphing her agony. "Dee," he said in a frightened whisper, "Dee, what's wrong?" When he got no answer, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. After asking for an ambulance, and giving his location to the operator, he turned his attention back to her, pulling her into his arms and whispering quiet words of encouragement to her, terrified by her lack of response. He had come to depend on her, to care so deeply for her. What would he do if she died?


	4. Chapter 4

Diandra had been following Blair out of Hargrove Hall, half listening to him, half wondering what she would have for lunch. So she was caught completely unaware by the Immortal buzz that hit her halfway down the steps. She paused, searching the commons for the source of the sensation. No one in sight seemed to be reacting to her presence. Beginning to compare the buzz to ones she had felt previously, she realized too late that the pain and nausea it caused were escalating far out of normal range. A thousand voices suddenly echoed inside her head, and the world became a blinding, whirling kaleidoscope of light and color. Clapping her hands over her ears, and squeezing her eyes shut, she slid to the ground, not even sure which way was up any longer.

She didn't know how long she lay there, but finally the voices began to fade, a steady, rhythmic thumping taking their place. The sound calmed her, giving her a focus, a reality to cling to. Light, soothing touches on her back further grounded her, and she could now hear a quiet, familiar voice calling her name, giving her instructions, something about dials, turning down the dials. She struggled to follow the voice's advice, and slowly the world righted itself. She could feel the cool cement under her legs, and her upper body rested against something solid and warm. Fingers trailed slowly across her scalp, and the mingling smells of shampoo, sweat and the essence that was uniquely Blair filled her nostrils. Slowly she opened her eyes, and found herself gazing into Blair's worried blue eyes. 

"You okay, Dee?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Nodding, she sat up, gingerly testing her voice. "Yeah, I think so. What happened?"

Blair rubbed her cheek gently, wiping away a smudge of dirt. "Total sensory overload. I've never seen that happen before, not even with Jim. You scared the shit out of me." 

"Sorry," she said, then winced in pain, covering her ears once more. 

A few seconds later, Blair heard the ambulance's siren also. Leaning closer to her, he whispered, "Turn the hearing dial down a couple more notches, until the sound doesn't hurt anymore."

Dee did as she was told, then sat quietly on the steps, content to let Blair deal with the EMTs. Resting her aching head in her hands, she pondered this strange turn of events. It hadn't been entirely unexpected. The black mare had been a signpost; she'd just chosen to conveniently ignore it. Now she would have to deal with this change, and the possibility that Blair would feel she'd lied to him. Lifting her head to gaze at him, she watched as he sent the ambulance crew on their way, then turned toward her, his face reflecting not anger, but confusion. Dee flipped her braid back over her shoulder. Now was the time for the truth.

Grabbing her hand as she held it out to him, Blair helped her up. "So where do we go from here, Dee?" he said quietly, the slightest tone of hurt coloring his words.

His pain cut her deeply, and she pulled him into a hug, trying to say with actions what she couldn't quite manage with words at the moment. She backed up a step, but didn't completely let him go. "I'm sorry, Lobo. I can't really explain what happened here, though I'm beginning to form a theory. But it's time for you to know the truth about me. What you do with that information will then be up to you." Releasing him, she headed down the steps and across the commons to the bench they usually sat on to eat lunch. Picking up his backpack, Blair followed her, beginning to wonder if he knew her at all.

After stopping at the student union for sandwiches and bottles of iced tea, Dee settled herself on their usual bench, removing her trench-coat and tossing it on the back of the seat beside her. Drawing her feet up, she sat cross-legged, popping the top on her tea and taking a long swig before she turned to meet Blair's steady gaze.

He sat next to her on the bench, his backpack between his feet, his sandwich and tea untouched. "Why Dee?" he asked her. "Why didn't you tell me you were a sentinel?"

She closed her eyes, letting memories of her years as a champion flow to the surface. Opening her eyes, she said, "I haven't been a champion for a very long time, not since my companion died." She paused for a beat, while Blair digested that information, then said, "That was 2,680 years ago." 

Blair's eyes widened, and he flinched away from her involuntarily. That small motion hurt her more than any of his words ever could. She gazed up at the sky for a long time, willing the tears back. Finally she looked at him. "I am Immortal, Blair. I was born on summer solstice 2,800 years ago, in Delphi, Greece. I was raised in the temple of Apollo, trained from birth to take my place as Apollo's highest priestess, the Oracle. At the age of 25 I died my first death, at the hands of another Immortal. When I awoke, my God gave me over to his sisters, to learn the skills I would need to survive in the Game." She could see the question forming on Blair's lips, and she pressed her fingertips to them. "Patience, Lobo. I will answer all your questions, but let me finish."

Nodding, Blair settled back in his seat, and unwrapped his sandwich, taking a bite as she continued. "I lived among the Amazons for nearly a hundred years, learning from Artemis and Athena the art of war, of weapons and combat. When she deemed I was ready, Artemis sent me to fetch the new queen of the Amazons, a girl she had handpicked to lead them. Little did I know she was a head-strong, 17 year-old princess in a far off land, betrothed to a neighboring prince and having no desire to leave her comfortable life." Dee smiled at the memory. "She was a tiny, red-headed spitfire, and objected quite strenuously to being thrown over my saddle and spirited off into the night. But over the long trip back to Amazon territory, we came to depend on each other, especially after Artemis gifted me with the heightened senses of a champion. Lydia became my companion, my best friend, my Queen, and my lover. We were together for 20 years, until she was killed in battle." Dee paused, sipping at her tea, trying to get past the memory of her soulmate dying in her arms.

Feeling Blair's hand on her arm, she turned toward him, reading the compassion plainly visible in his eyes. Sliding his hand down to hers, he squeezed it gently, unable to begin to comprehend the agony that loss must have put her through. "How did you stay sane?" he asked quietly.

Dee shuddered at his words. "I didn't," she replied. "I threw myself on her funeral pyre, even though I knew it wouldn't kill me. But the pain did overload my senses, shut them down completely, until now, that is. It also drove me insane. I spent nearly two centuries wandering around Europe, barely surviving, an outcast even among the Amazons. Finally, I was confronted by another of my kind, and had to choose whether I wanted to live or die. I chose to live." She paused then, seeing Blair had something he wanted to say.

"So that's what you meant when you told Jim you were 'Diandra of Delphi'. I looked that name up, you know. I found it in an obscure Greek poem by Sappho, an ode to the death of the Amazon Queen. 'Lydia, the light is fading, Persephone your name is calling, but enter not the Elysian Fields 'til your Champion walks at your side. Diandra of Delphi, warrior of Thymescria, grieve for your Queen," he quoted.

Dee felt her chest tighten unbearably at his words, and she clutched at his hand. "Oh, god, Dee, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said, sliding his arm around her shoulders, feeling her hot tears on his skin as she buried her face in his neck. He felt her body shaking with sobs, and he realized that no matter how interesting this was from a historical point of view, it was real to her. She had lived through the grief and the pain, and was putting herself through it again for him, so he would understand who and what she was.

Finally, she pulled away, sitting up and wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so worked up over something that happened over 2000 years ago."

"It's okay," Blair told her. "I don't think anyone could forget that kind of pain."

Dee laughed weakly. "Immortals can't forget anything. I remember what I had for breakfast on this date 300 years ago. It's one of our blessings, and our curses." She blew her nose on a napkin, and unwrapped her sandwich, unsure of where she should go from here.

Blair solved her dilemma for her. "What is the game you mentioned?"

"Ah, the Game. There are few rules to the Game, the foremost being 'There can be only one'. Only one Immortal left at the end of the Game, possessing all the power and knowledge of all Immortals, or so the legend goes. No one really knows the reason for the Game, but it consists of one on one armed combat between two Immortals, winner taking the loser's head, and thus his Quickening, or his life force."

She heard Blair breathe, "The swords--"

"Yes, the swords. All Immortals have to learn to fight, or spend the rest of their lives on Holy Ground, where no Immortal dare kill another. Once the fight is engaged, no one can interfere." Dee could see the horror and confusion on Blair's face.

"Immortals are just like you, Lobo. We're good, we're bad, we're somewhere in between. Most of us just want to be left alone and live our lives in peace. But those who desire power will always challenge those they think they can beat. And sometimes Immortals have to dispense justice on their own. Most of us frown upon harming mortals, but some of us think nothing of using or killing mortals in their own quest for power. No mortal jail or method of execution will ever stop them, and it is up to the rest of us to punish them."

"By killing them?" Blair squeaked.

"Yes," Diandra replied quietly. She could see the whole idea was appalling to him. "I know how you feel, Blair, but it's a part of my life. I had to learn to accept it in order to survive. I only fight when challenged, or to stop the killing of others. If there is any way to best an opponent and give them the opportunity to walk away, I will take it." She looked down at the ground sadly. "Though some of them are so blinded by the blood lust that they refuse the opportunity to live to fight another day."

Blair leaned forward, burying both hands in his hair. Jim had been right about her; she was a killer. "Those deaths in DC," he gasped, unable to call them murders, "you were responsible."

"Yes," she said sadly. "Neither of them had to happen, but they just couldn't walk away when beaten. The Crane woman was barely trained, I don't know what she was thinking. The fight lasted all of five minutes, and I told her to walk away; I offered to recommend someone to train her. She refused, picked up her sword and came at me again. I gave her more than one opportunity to give it up. I had no other choice." She sighed, thinking of the desperate battle in the parking garage of the Hoover Building. "Phoebe Green came after my unarmed, untrained student. She nearly killed her before I arrived. I disarmed her, told her to leave, that she would have another chance once my student had time to learn the Game. She threatened to kill Fox. I knew she was telling the truth, that if Dana and I left, she would think nothing of murdering him. I just--I lost it. I haven't felt that kind of rage in centuries." She clenched her tea bottle so hard her knuckles turned white. 

Closing his eyes, Blair listened to his heart pounding. He didn't know what to do. She had just confessed to killing two people, god knew how many more she had killed in nearly three millennia. He should call Jim, he should call Simon, he should get up and start running and never stop. And yet--he remembered her kneeling over his dying body, pouring her own life force into him. She had been his friend, his teacher, the first person he could talk to about his sentinel and know she really understood. She had never hurt him, never lied to him, even now, when lying would have been the easy road to take. She didn't have to tell him these things; she could have left out her immortality, just told him she had been a sentinel once. But that wouldn't be her.

He sneaked a glance at her through the fringe of his hair. She was leaning against the back of the bench, her eyes closed, her face a silent mask of pain, tears glistening on her cheeks. He felt them burning against his own eyelids, and he swallowed past the hard lump in his throat. Had it been like this when she had told Fox Mulder what she was? He knew instinctively she had, and knew Mulder couldn't accept it, had turned away from her pain, pretended it didn't exist, pretended she hadn't killed to save him, to save his partner. Blair felt an unreasonable rage boiling inside of him, at Mulder, at himself, at anyone who couldn't see what her life had cost her.

"Dee," he said softly, turning toward her, pulling her into his arms. "Oh, Dee, I'm so sorry, so sorry." He held her tightly, feeling her once again sobbing against him, and he loosed the reins on his own tears, crying for her, for her companion, for himself for ever doubting her and adding to her pain.

When she finally pulled away, she laughed uneasily. "Well, that was certainly cathartic," she said.

He managed a weak smile as he wiped the remaining wetness from his face. "You gonna eat that sandwich?" he asked, bringing a sense of normalcy to what had been a bizarre conversation.

Diandra handed him half her lunch and stole half of his in return. "Lobo," she said, "you are amazing. I am so lucky to have you in my life." Leaning over, she pressed her lips to his cheek, unable to find any more words to express the joy she was feeling. 

Blair felt a small shudder of pleasure dance from his head to his toes at her touch. Did she know what she did to him? The look of smug satisfaction on her face told him she did. He made himself more comfortable on the bench, and spent a couple minutes devouring his lunch. When he felt enough time had passed for them to distance themselves from their raw emotions, he started asking questions, and she answered them.

She told him what had happened on the steps of the anthropology building, that she had felt another Immortal's buzz, and that had somehow triggered her senses going haywire. "So you Immortals can sense one another coming," Blair mused.

"Yes, kind of an early warning system. Most of us can't differentiate one Immortal's buzz from another's, but I can to a degree. I know people I've met before, and I can pretty much tell whether a strange Immortal is friend or foe. I think it has something to do with my truth divination."

"So what was this Immortal you felt today?"

"No one I knew, but definitely bad. Very bad." She rubbed her arms, as if she was suddenly cold. "But he wasn't interested in me, that's what's strange. I know he felt me; it just seemed his attention was on something else." 

Blair dug in his backpack and taking out a hair tie, he proceeded to pull his hair back off his face. "Let me ask you another question," he said. "Do you think it was him that caused your senses to come back online?"

"I don't know. I knew this was coming, though. I saw the mare the night I beat up on your partner."

"Mare? What mare?"

"My spirit guide. Yours is a wolf, Ellison's is a black jaguar," she told him.

He stared at her, then grabbed a notebook from his pack and started scribbling. "You can see our guides?"

"Yeah, I saw yours the day I met you. Look, I know this is probably hard for you to believe," she said, "but I've lived long enough to discover that nothing ever happens to me without a reason. My senses have come back because I'm going to need them."

Blair considered that for a moment. He agreed with the idea of kismet. What else would have brought two such direct opposites as himself and Jim together? For that matter, what else could have brought Diandra to Cascade? But still, he was a scientist; he had to consider all the possibilities. "Are you sure it's that? Or could they be back because you've been in close contact with a guide?"

Smiling, Dee nodded, her braid bobbing. "It's all connected, Lobo. You, me, sentinels, companions, mortals, Immortals-- "

Blair was getting a headache trying to follow the twists and turns of her logic. "Okay, I'll take your word on that. But what do you think this other Immortal in Cascade means?"

"Trouble, that I'm sure of. For whom I don't know, but it's my responsibility to stop it." Getting to her feet, she slid her coat on. Blair stared at her in awe. With that small move, she had transformed from vulnerable woman to Immortal Champion. Cascade was not going to know what hit it, with two Sentinels on the job. Reaching her hand out to him, she pulled him up. "You have any pressing plans this afternoon?" At his head shake, she said, "Because I have a friend in Seacouver who will know what's up with this guy if anyone does. It's Friday night, think Ellison would mind if I whisked you away on an over night trip to Seacouver?"

"Don't know," he said, "but it doesn't matter. Jim's on a prisoner transfer assignment. He left for San Francisco this morning, and won't be back 'til Sunday at the earliest."

Dee cocked an eyebrow at him. "While the cat's away, the wolf will play, eh?"

Blair linked his arm through hers with a grin, "Lead on, Champion."

After a quick stop at the loft to grab a change of clothes for each of them, Blair and Diandra piled into her Cherokee and took off for Seacouver. The hour-long drive was filled with chatter, as Blair asked every question under the sun about her life, Immortals, Champions, Gods and Amazons. Dee answered them all gladly, just happy to have Blair by her side, still her friend, instead of her enemy.

Blair finally quieted down as they entered the outskirts of Seacouver, and he looked around eagerly, wondering whom she was taking him to see. She had been very mysterious about her friend, only saying she was sure Blair would find him a kindred spirit. So, he was quite surprised when she pulled into the fairly empty parking lot of a disreputable looking bar in the warehouse district, called, if the neon sign was correct, "Joe's". 

Hopping out of the truck, Diandra pulled on her trench-coat, reaching inside to adjust the position of her katana. Blair watched her movements closely; the hair on the back of his neck raising as she closed her eyes and extended her senses. It was weird watching someone other than Jim do it, and he took mental notes on her technique, impressed that she'd automatically taken a moment to center herself, something he was forever reminding Jim to do. Opening her eyes, she shot him a grin over the hood of the truck. "All clear," she announced.

"That kind of place, huh?" he said, following her across the asphalt to the door. 

"Yep," she replied, "it's kind of an Immortal hangout. But we're probably the only customers right now. I only detected four other people in the building." Pulling open the door, she entered with a confidence Blair wished he was feeling.

Dee stepped immediately over to the bar, while Blair paused in the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the change in lighting. A long bar ran along side the right wall of the place, tables and chairs occupied the center of the wooden floor, a couple booths lined the left wall. Steps led to what Blair imagined must be more seating upstairs. A small stage took up the back left of the room, and an older man with grizzled hair and beard sat on a stool atop the stage, languid, tormented blues filling the room from the guitar held across his lap. 

Taking a step further into the room, Blair watched Dee leaning against the bar, swaying to the music, her eyes never leaving the figure on the stage. Just when he thought things couldn't get any stranger, he heard singing, a deep husky alto that grabbed him by the heart and gave him goose bumps, a voice full of dark secrets. The man on the stage looked toward the bar in surprise, but kept playing, and that's when Blair realized Dee was the one singing. 

Plopping himself on a stool at the end of the bar, Blair watched as Dee sashayed across the room towards the guitar player, timing her walk so she ended up at the stage just as the song finished. Dee leaned up and kissed the man on the cheek, and Blair felt an irrational surge of jealousy. Putting the guitar aside, the man climbed down from the stool and with the help of a cane, made his way to the bar, Dee following in his wake. She took a seat next to Blair, and the older man went behind the counter, immediately setting a glass in front of Dee. He gave Blair a curious look, then said, "So, Dee, what brings you back to Seacouver? I thought you were all settled in Cascade, despite that bit of trouble MacLeod said you ran into."

Dee grinned, and for the first time since Blair had met her, she fairly bounced in her chair. "I'll fill you in in a minute, Joe, but first I want you to meet my friend and student, Blair Sandburg. Lobo, this is my good friend, and favorite bartender, Joe Dawson."

Joe extended his hand over the bar, and Blair took it, finding his grip firm and confident. Even in the dim lighting, he noticed the unusual tattoo on the man's right wrist; a blue circle with what looked from Blair's angle to be a stylized bird, or maybe a "V". He was trying to remember where he'd seen the symbol before, when he realized Dee was talking about him. "Blair's an anthropology professor at Rainier," he heard her say.

"Uh, doctoral student, actually," he amended.

"That's interesting," Joe commented, pouring what looked like mineral water into the glass in front of Dee, and adding a slice of lime to it. "And what'll you be having?" he asked Blair.

Still a bit out of sorts, he gestured at Dee's drink, and said, "Whatever she's having will be fine." With a grin, Joe set up another glass.

"So," Dee asked, "have you heard from Mac lately?"

Joe shook his head. "He's in Japan on a buying trip. Should be home the middle of next week, why?"

"No reason, just was planning to stay at the loft tonight, and wondered if we would run into him."

"No such luck," Joe replied. "You still have your keys, don't you?" 

Dee nodded and took a sip of her drink. Blair tried his too, and found it to be some kind of sparkling water. Joe turned his gaze back on Blair, scrutinizing him. "So this is your new student?" he finally said.

Dee laughed, and replied "Oh, Joe, not that kind of student. He's not like me; I've just been teaching him martial arts. He's an observer with the Cascade PD. His partner's the guy Mac was probably bending your ear about for a week."

Blair felt Joe reappraising him, but he made no comment. The phone rang, and as Joe went to answer it, Blair played back the past few minutes in his mind, realizing that Joe thought when Dee had said he was her student, she had meant he was Immortal. He put two and two together, realizing that Joe must be a mortal because he didn't automatically know Blair wasn't an Immortal. If they were going to keep this up all night, Blair was going to have one hell of a headache, trying to keep track of the players without a program.

Joe hung up the phone and turned back to them. "So is this a social call, Dee? Or do you have some favor you need from me?" He tried to sound stern, but he was grinning as he said it.

Sighing, Diandra pushed the lime to the bottom of her glass with her straw. "It's a favor, Joe, of the kind you only do for Mac."

The bearded man shook his head. "Dee...You know it's against the rules, yours and mine."

"I know it is, Joe, and I wouldn't be asking you, except all my instincts are screaming at me that this is gonna be bad. And you're the only one who can possibly help me."

Blair watched the bartender's reaction, seeing it change from skepticism to worry at the mention of Dee's instincts. "Bad like Paris was bad?" he asked.

Dee nodded slowly. "People are going to die, Joe, unless I can stop this guy. The problem is, I don't know who I'm looking for. I need to know if there are any other Immortals in Cascade."

Joe shot a quick glance from her to Blair. Dee nodded, then said, "He's a friend, Joe. I owed him that much."

The anthropologist spoke up then. "I would never betray Dee, just as she would never betray me." Her sapphire eyes captured his crystal blue ones then, and the warmth and affection he saw there made him blush. "You know I wouldn't, Dee," he said, wiggling uncomfortably under her gaze.

"I know you wouldn't, Lobo," she replied, leaning in close enough for him to feel her breath tickling his ear, brushing her shoulder against his.

Joe watched the interplay between the two with interest. This was a new side of Dee, warm, open, hell, she was flirting with the guy, and he seemed as astonished by it as Joe was. Quite a change from the last time he'd seen her. He'd teased her then about changing her name to MacLeod, because her demeanor so closely resembled the dour Scot's black moods. Must be the water in Cascade. With a sigh, he resigned himself to his fate. "Come on in the back, you two. I'll check my email, see if anyone new has entered the Pacific Northwest."

Blair followed Joe into the bar's office, Dee bringing up the rear. Seating himself at a computer, Joe turned it on, and waited for it to boot up, gesturing for them to pull up a couple chairs. Shedding her black duster, Dee took a seat beside him, Blair taking a position slightly behind her, after slipping on his glasses. Joe clicked on an icon, and the screen dissolved into a marble patterned background, the symbol tattooed on Joe's wrist visible in a stylized relief on the screen. Typing in a password, the words "Watcher Database" flashed briefly on the screen, then dissolved into what looked like a complicated search engine.

Blair's chin was practically resting on Dee's shoulder as he tried to get a better look. "What's a Watcher?" he asked Dee. 

"Someone who watches Immortals, records their history. The Watchers have been around almost as long as I have. Most Immortals have no idea of their existence. They have rules and regulations just as complicated as the ones for playing the Game."

Joe shot her a glance over his shoulder. "If anyone knew I was helping you, I'd be in serious trouble. I've checked the database updates, and there's no other Immortal listed in Cascade, not even any that were passing through. What else can you tell me about this Immortal you've never seen?"

Dee sighed. "We may have seen him, Joe. We just don't know who he was out of all the people in the area when I felt the buzz."

"Exactly where were you anyway?"

Blair answered for her. "Standing outside the anthro/history building on Rainier's campus at lunchtime. Even during summer semester, there's at least a couple hundred people in the immediate vicinity."

"That's going to make it difficult, but give me what you got. You're sure he's male?"

Nodding, Dee closed her eyes, trying to bring back the exact flavor of the buzz. She felt Blair's hand begin to slowly rub her back, his voice low and hypnotic. "Try to filter out everything else, Dee, concentrate only on your Immortal warning system. We were coming out of the building, going down the steps. You stopped and-- "

"I can feel him," she said. "He's fairly young, I'd say 200 to 300 years old. But powerful--he's taken a lot of heads. His Quickening feels like a snake, coiled and hissing and waiting to strike." She shifted uncomfortably in the chair, and Blair moved his hand higher, so he was now rubbing the back of her neck. The pleasant sensation kept her from falling into the memory of her sensory overload. "My buzz is distracting him; he's busy; he's looking for someone; he doesn't have time for me; he's gone."

Opening her eyes, she turned to look at Blair. "That was great, Lobo. You're really good at this," she said. "I couldn't have recalled that much without your help."

Grinning, Blair lowered his hand from her neck, resting it on the back of her chair. "It's my job," he replied casually, but inside he was glowing from her praise.

"If you two are done congratulating yourselves, I have some suspects for you to look at," Joe said, having entered the info Diandra had given into the search engine. 

There were about fifty possibilities, and the two of them went through them carefully, but none of the photos seemed familiar. Still, Joe sent off a blanket email to their watchers, asking for their whereabouts that day. After sending the message on it's way, Joe turned back to Dee and Blair. "Sorry I can't be of much more help, but their watchers will know where they were today, and get back to me."

Dee smacked herself in the forehead with the palm of her hand. "Their watchers! How could I be so stupid! Joe, you have a watcher on me, right?" The grey-haired man nodded. "If they were watching me this afternoon, they had to have seen me react to the buzz. Maybe they got a look at this Immortal."

"It's worth a shot," Joe said. "I'll contact them and see if they saw someone reacting to you. If not, I'll ask them to go over the Immortals in the database, see if they spot someone they recognize from this afternoon."

"Thanks, Joe," Dee said, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. "How soon do you think you'll have the info?"

"Maybe tonight, but more likely tomorrow. I'll give you a call at the loft. Or," he said, suddenly having a brainstorm, "you could hang around here tonight, have dinner, listen to the band. We've got a great piano trio here tonight and then if it gets too late, you can head over to the loft, and I'll call you tomorrow as soon as I know anything. Dinner and drinks are on me."

Dee's eyes lit up. "That would be great, Joe. Is that okay with you, Lobo?" she asked, turning to Blair. "Joe's has the best ribs west of Chicago."

"Free food? Count me in!" he replied.

Gathering up their things, they headed back out into the bar, and took their seats in one of the booths. The waitress came to take their drink order. "Joe said to order whatever you want guys, it's on the house."

"Just another sparking mineral water with lime for me," Dee said. "Mm, and can you make me a strawberry daiquiri without alcohol."

"Sure," she replied, then turned to Blair. When he hesitated, Dee said, "Just because I'm not drinking doesn't mean you don't have to."

Blair thought for a moment, then said, "Bring me a Sharp's." Writing the order down, the waitress went back to the bar.

"You could have had a regular beer, Lobo. I don't mind."

He shook his head. "I figured you must be expecting trouble, and I'm your backup, so... "

Dee laughed lightly. "I don't ever drink alcohol. Even one drink can cause a fatal mistake, and one never knows when the challenge will come, so I just don't indulge. But you can't interfere in my fight, Blair, so if you wanted a beer, you should have ordered a beer."

Blair was beginning to argue the difference between their concepts of backup with her when his cell phone rang. Rummaging through his backpack, he pulled it out and pressed the answer button. "Hello."

"Sandburg! Where in the hell are you? I've tried the station, the university, the loft-- " Jim's voice was overlaid with static.

"Uh, I'm not in Cascade, Jim. I'm in Seacouver," Blair replied.

There was another burst of static, then a curious "What are you doing there?"

Blair obfuscated. "Research, yeah, research. I heard about this guy who's a historian up here and-- "

Jim interrupted him. "Okay, I hate to cut this short, but this connection is getting worse. I just wanted to let you know I may be home by tomorrow night. Talk to you later."

"Jim, when you get home, we need to have a talk, okay?" There was an undecipherable response from Jim, then Blair found himself listening to a dead phone. He turned it off, and put it away. "Bad connection," he said to Dee.

Dee played with the cardboard coaster the waitress had brought with their drinks while he was on the phone. "Is that little talk by any chance going to be about me?"

Still digging through his stuff, Blair looked up at her. "Um, yeah. Is that a problem?"

She shook her head. "No, no, I just wanted to make sure you were going to let him know there's another sentinel around, though I think he's had a better sense of what's been going on with me than I have."

Blair pondered that for a moment. "That would explain his dislike of you, if he sensed your powers returning before you did. He has been acting kind of strange, but not nearly as bad as the last time."

"The last time? You mean there's been two sentinels in Cascade before?"

Turning to look at the bar, Blair avoided her gaze. How could he tell her he'd screwed up so badly then? That he had nearly destroyed his friendship with Jim over Alex Barnes? And what if that's what it came down to this time? What if Jim made him choose? He knew there was only one choice he could make, but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt him, or Diandra. He turned back to find she had scooted around the curve of the booth and was now sitting right next to him, her concerned eyes peering intently into his own.

"Lobo?" she said, her voice soft, her hand covering his where it lay on the table. "I can see it hurt you very much. Tell me what happened, so we can avoid it happening again." 

"I--uh--I found another sentinel, and she had no idea what was happening to her, so I was trying to help her, but I made the mistake of not telling Jim about her. Meanwhile, Jim's senses were starting to act weird on him, and he quit talking to me, eventually he packed all my stuff and just kicked me out, without telling me what was going on. Neither of us knew what was happening to him was tied to Alex's appearance. On top of that, she was a criminal and she nearly killed me." 

He felt Dee's fingers tighten around his own, and she swore softly in that language Blair didn't recognize, or at least he guessed it was swearing by the tone. "Where is this chica now?" she asked.

He told her the rest of the story, about the nerve gas and the trip to Mexico, and Jim being drawn to Alex there. "Last I heard she was still in the mental hospital, Dee, so far into a zone that no one can reach her. What I never could figure out was what was going on between the two of them. One minute they would be trying to kill each other, and the next they were a few layers of clothes away from doing the horizontal nasty. She even pointed a gun at me, and Jim made no move to stop her."

Sitting back in the booth, Dee slid her arm around Blair's shoulders, and he found himself leaning into her half embrace, needing her heat to warm the ice flowing through his veins. "What if that happens this time, Dee?" he asked finally. "I couldn't go through that again. I mean, at least Alex was a bad person, in some ways she deserved what she got, but you--If Jim hurt you, or you hurt him, I don't know what I'd do."

"That's not going to happen, Blair," Diandra reassured him. 

"How do you know it won't? It seems like it's something genetic, some instinct Jim can't control."

"But I can."

He turned his face toward her, his eyes asking a hundred questions, desperately wanting to believe her. He felt her fingers rubbing the back of his neck gently, as he had done earlier to her. She was trying to distract him from his worries, he realized, and damn, it was working. He couldn't focus enough to dream up a worst case scenario if he tried. Her confident words added to the mix.

"What happened between Jim and Alex, and is happening to a much lesser extent between him and me, is a classic battle for dominance. It happens all the time in the wild; the two strongest will battle for control of the herd or the pack. Only one can lead, you see. But I have an edge; I've been dealing with a very powerful genetic instinct for years. It's called the Game. The newest Immortals are the most affected by it. A buzz can send them into a blood lust, causing them to hunt and kill with no regard for the consequences, or their own lives. Older immortals are stronger. Each Quickening we take, each year we age gives us the strength to separate ourselves further and further from pure instinctual action. I haven't fought in blood lust in over 2000 years, Lobo. And believe me, the Game instinct is much stronger than the 'only one Sentinel in the village' one is. Besides, Cascade is Jim's territory, Jim's protectorate. I have no such ties there. The only thing I think comes closest to it for most Immortals is the student/teacher bond. They are the only things we really have a claim to. None of us can really stay in one place long enough to make it our territory." 

Blair could see a few holes in that theory. "Then what was the purpose of defeating Jim in that little fight you had, if not to establish dominance?"

Dee grinned at him. "That was me blowing off steam. Yeah, I proved I was better than Jim, but I didn't take over what was his. I'm not out protecting the people of Cascade or anything."

"Are you sure of that?" Blair asked, his hand coming up to lightly grasp the fingers that were still doing interesting things to his neck.

"Uh, Lobo, that's not what it looks like. I'm not trying to steal you away from Jim. I couldn't do it if I wanted to. Champions and companions are bonded, are soulmates. An outside force can't come between them, not in the way you're thinking." But she removed her hand, much to Blair's disappointment. 

The waitress chose that moment to come by again to take their dinner order, their new positions in the booth causing her to raise an eyebrow, but she made no comment. When she had left, Blair addressed his second question to Dee. "Okay, so you've explained away the rivalry thing. But what about the sex?"

"What about the sex? Well, two sentinels together is kind of kinky. I mean, think of all the arguments about whose turn it is to be on top. A guide/sentinel pair works out much better, if they're so inclined-- " At Blair's uncomfortable look, she tried to make up for her faux paux. "Um, not that I'm implying you should be sleeping with Ellison, if that's not your thing--That's not your thing is it?" she asked, peering at him intently. Blair choked on the mouthful of beer he'd just taken, and she thumped him on the back. "Oh, you mean am I suddenly going to be lying in wait in the hallway for Ellison?" She snorted. "Highly unlikely. He's not my type. As far as I can tell, he's not interested in me either, and I hope it stays that way. Otherwise, I'm going to have to let him know the score. "

"And the score is?" Blair gasped, still half choking.

Diandra looked him right in the eye and winked at him. "Sandburg 1, Ellison 0." Scooting back around to her side of the booth, she got up. "I'm going to the little Immortals room. Be back in a minute."

As soon as she left the table, Blair buried his face in his hands. If he didn't know better, he'd swear she was coming on to him.

"You doing okay there, son?" 

He looked up to see Joe standing next to him. "Uh, yeah, I'm just a little confused right now, that's all." 

Pulling up a chair from a nearby table, Joe sat down. "Dee tends to have that effect on people," he said with a grin.

Blair groaned. "Is it that obvious?"

Chuckling, Joe said, "I think it was obvious when she sat down at the bar and introduced you. I don't know who you are, or how you met her, but thank god you did."

Now Blair was more confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I haven't seen Dee this happy in ages. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen her this happy. And believe me, she needs some happiness in her life."

"How long have you known her?" Blair asked.

"Personally? A little over two years. As a Watcher? Let's just say she was one of those myths; she ranked right up there with Methos. Before she came to Seacouver two years ago, everyone thought she was dead. She hadn't been seen by a Watcher in over 800 years. And when she did come out of the Outback, it was for revenge."

"Revenge?"

"Doesn't sound like her, does it? But she'd been led to believe that one of her former students had been killed in the Game, by the same Immortal that had caused her first death. In reality, it was a ruse by an evil Immortal to draw the both of them out, hoping one would kill the other, and he would take whoever was left. That would have made him perhaps the most powerful Immortal in the world."

"How?"

"Dee is one of the oldest and most powerful Immortals. The man she was looking for is even older, over 5000 years old."

Blair was beginning to get the hang of this power thing. "And if the bad guy had taken their Quickenings, he would be gaining nearly 8000 years worth of power. Wow! What happened?"

"Dee and Methos joined with MacLeod to find this guy, and rescue MacLeod's kinsman, Connor. I don't know what they did, but it had enough power to blow up an entire fortress outside of Paris." Joe shook his head at the memory. "Dee was unconscious for a week after that. Whatever she did took a hell of a lot out of her."

"Joe! Are you boring Blair with old war stories?" Dee said, coming up behind him, and putting her hands on her hips in amused indignation.

"All right, all right, I'm going. I know when I'm not wanted." Joe rose to his feet, leaning on his cane. "I'll just leave you two alone," he said, giving Blair a wink as he headed back toward the bar.

Dee crawled back into the booth just as the waitress brought their rib baskets. There was silence at the table for a few minutes, as they both attacked the spicy pork. "This is incredible," Blair said, coming up for air after his third rib.

She nodded in response, her mouth full. Blair reached over and wiped a smear of sauce off her chin with his finger. He was about to wipe it on his napkin, when he had a better idea. He stuck it in his mouth and licked it off, watching Dee's eyes widen in surprise. Grinning, he attacked his meal again. This day was growing more interesting by the minute, and it was far from being over.

*****

Leaning back in the booth, Dee laced her fingers over her stomach, and groaned. "I think that second side of ribs was a mistake. I feel like I'm gonna explode!" 

Dropping a bare bone onto his already littered plate, Blair nodded. "Yes, but that was the best barbecue I've ever tasted. We've gotta bring Jim here some time," he said, wiping his fingers on a napkin, and then tossing it on top of the remains of his meal.

Dee smiled at his reference to "we", wondering if he'd noticed he'd automatically included her in his plans. Better yet, she wondered how the three of them having dinner together would go over with Jim. "Say, Jim, the ribs here are great. By the way, Dee's a sentinel, and as much as you'd love to kill her right now, it won't do you any good. She's immortal." Oh, yeah, that's going to be a fun conversation. The trio of musicians taking the stage interrupted her mildly unpleasant thoughts. 

"The band's warming up, Lobo. Why don't you come sit over here so you can see them?" she said, patting the bench next to her. Blair edged around the booth until he was sitting beside her, just as the music started. The pianist, bass player and drummer were quite good, running through an eclectic selection of blues, jazz and swing tunes. 

Dee finished off her daiquiri, and eyed the plump strawberry the bartender had stuck on the glass as a garnish. She really was stuffed. "Hey, Blair, want a strawberry?" she offered, holding the fruit between her thumb and forefinger. 

Nodding, Blair leaned forward, neatly grabbing the berry with his teeth, his lips closing lightly over her fingertips. Glancing up at her from that position, he saw her eyes were shining with a warmth he'd thought blue eyes were incapable of. A small smile parted her lips slightly, and as he watched, the tip of her tongue flicked out to wet them. It took incredible concentration to sit back up, chew and swallow. "Was it good?" she asked, her voice husky.

"Oh, yeah," Blair replied, glad the dim lighting hid the crimson flush creeping up his face. Oh, shit, she's a sentinel! Dim lighting, hell! He suddenly felt like he was sixteen years old again, and on his first date. "I, uh, um--I'll be right back," he finally managed, crawling out of the booth and practically running for the safety of the men's room. As he passed Joe at the bar, the older man gave him a thumb's up.

Blair entered the restroom, and closed the stall door behind him, leaning his back against it, sorely in need of the support. What in the world was going on with them? What was the matter with him? Normally if a beautiful woman had been giving him those kinds of signals, Blair would have been all over her, hell, they would have left the bar for someplace more private long ago. It wasn't that he didn't want Dee, he just didn't want her the same way he had wanted all the other women in his life. Dee was-- unique. He clapped both hands over his mouth to silence what would have been hysterical giggles. Unique!? Jeez, Blair, what a talent you have for understatement. 

Sobering slightly, he realized what was shaking him up so badly. Even if she hadn't been immortal, or a sentinel, she would still be the most important woman in his life. She trusted him completely. She didn't think he was weird or hyperactive or a nerd. She treated him with the utmost respect; she ignored the million times he'd put his foot in his mouth, and his clumsy attempts at passes. She genuinely cared about him. Why was she coming on to him now, after all those weeks of disinterest? Well, not really disinterest, but the strong impression that she wanted only to be friends. What had changed?

Joe's words came back to him. " I haven't seen Dee this happy in ages. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen her this happy." He had caused that, but how? And then it hit him, he had accepted her that afternoon, accepted everything about her, accepted her immortality, her champion senses, her past, and most important, he'd accepted her participation in the Game. Any walls, any barriers she'd kept between herself and him were gone. For the first time, he was seeing her as she truly was, beautiful, caring, playful, sensual. And Blair realized he was everything to her that she was to him; he was the most important person in her life. 

Sliding down the door, he sat on the cold ceramic tile floor, not sure whether to laugh, or cry or both. He, Blair Sandburg, the man who loved women, plural, now loved only one.


	5. Chapter 5

Rolling over on the hotel mattress, Jim stared at the clock again. It was almost midnight, and he still hadn't dropped off to sleep. He debated going for a run to tire him out, but it was raining in San Francisco, and while the bed might not be comfortable, it was warm. Rolling back on to his back, he crossed his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling.

What in the hell was Sandburg doing in Seacouver, he wondered. He had heard Blair say something about research, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why, at this late date, he needed more research. Unless... maybe Sandburg had finally gotten the hint about Diandra Pallas, and was looking into her past on his own. That thought made Jim sit bolt upright in bed, and he almost reached for the phone to call his guide. And what was he going to say if Sandburg answered? Right, Jim. Go to sleep. He's fine. You would know it if he weren't. 

Lying back down, Jim closed his eyes again, and this time he slept, dreaming of a silver wolf cavorting with a black horse, while a jaguar screamed in pain.

* * *

When Blair had finally pulled himself back together, he splashed cold water on his face and tried to come up with something to say to her. Everything he thought of sounded lame. "How about the truth?" he asked himself. "Oh, yeah, that'll go over real good. Say, Dee, while I was in the john, I figured out I'm in love with you? Not that you could possibly see anything in a geek like me, and we'd only have maybe 50 years together, a pittance to you, I know, but I could show you a good time until you have to put me in the home." He shook his head. "You can be such a moron, Blair," he said to his reflection in the mirror. "She cares about you, man. She really cares... " his voice trailed off to a whisper, as that thought both excited and terrified him. He stood in front of the restroom door for a few moments, then taking a deep breath and steeling himself, he headed back into the bar.

His heart plummeted to his feet when he saw their table was empty. "I wasn't in there that long was I?" he muttered. A horrifying thought suddenly crossed his mind. She'd said this was a hangout for Immortals. What if one had come in and challenged her, and she was out in the alley right now, fighting for her life? He didn't realize he'd stopped breathing until a gentle hand on his shoulder and a quiet "Hey," in his ear caused him to inhale sharply.

Turning around, he found Dee standing behind him. "Didn't mean to scare you, Lobo. I was just checking with Joe to see if he'd heard from my watcher. No luck." She watched as a hundred different emotions flickered across his face.

"I--uh--I was worried for a minute there, when I didn't see you. I thought maybe.... " He couldn't even say the words.

Seeing the fear on his face, she grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Nope, no Immortals came in while you were gone. And I wouldn't go without telling you. Chances are the next battle I'll be fighting will be with the Immortal we're trying to trace, if he's still around." 

The jazz trio was taking the stage again after their break, and Dee seized upon a distraction for both of them. "Come on, Lobo. Let's dance." 

Blair followed her through the tables to the small dance floor, and they joined the other couples there in moving to the beat of the music. Dee was, he soon discovered, a fantastic dancer. He had never done much swing dancing, but following her expert instruction, he was soon jumping and jiving with the best of them. By the time the piano trio began a slow song, though, he was ready for a rest. He started to lead Dee toward their table, but found he was grasping the hand of an immovable object. "Not so fast, Lobo," she said with a grin. "If you think I'm going to let you get out of slow dancing with me, you are sadly mistaken." 

With those words, she pulled him into her arms, and Blair found himself nestled up against nearly six feet of warm, muscular, and very feminine Immortal. Not that he was complaining, mind you. Normally he hated dancing with tall women, but Dee was different, their curves and angles fitting smoothly together as if they were two halves of a whole. He slid his arms around her waist, and swayed along to the music with her, feeling her relax against him. It had been a long time since he had done this, just enjoyed the feeling of another body pressed close to his. No cares, no worries, just the two of them, in their own little world. He felt Dee bury her face in his hair, and inhale deeply. "You smell really good," she murmured, her eyes closed blissfully. 

"You feel really good," he replied, and was rewarded with a smile that spread slowly across her face. They danced through that song, and the next, barely moving from their own little spot on the floor. A new song started, and Blair felt Dee begin to hum, then to sing for his ears only. Her husky voice sent little eddies of pleasure swirling through him. The song was "That Old Black Magic", and he quickly realized she was singing about her feelings for him. He squeezed her tighter, and rubbed his hand up and down her back. 

When the song ended, and the patrons of the bar applauded the band, Blair took a step back and gazed up into her face. Her eyes were shining in the dim light, her chocolate hair flecked with gold from the stage lights, a sexy half smile on her lips. Raising up on his toes, Blair pressed his lips gently to hers, tasting strawberries, barbecue sauce and her own unique flavor before he pulled away. Her arms around him didn't let him get far, and she pressed herself against him, bending to return the kiss. He felt himself getting lost in the gentle warmth of her mouth on his, and only came back to his senses when one of the other couples on the dance floor whacked him in the back with an elbow. Separating, they realized they were the only couple standing still during a wild swing number. 

Dodging flailing arms and kicking feet, they made their way back to their booth and gathered up their things; Diandra shrugging into her duster, and Blair grabbing his backpack. He threw it over his shoulder, and then stepped into the waiting curve of her arm, feeling a sense of completeness as it tightened around his waist. His own hand resting at the small of her back, they headed for the door. 

After stopping to say good night to Joe at the bar, they were walking toward the exit, when Blair felt Dee stiffen at his side and glancing up, he saw the same expression of concentration on her face he'd seen that afternoon. "What is it?" he asked her, an icy knot twisting in his stomach. 

Letting out a long breath, she relaxed. "A friend," she said, just as a tall, lanky, dark-haired man entered the bar, his intense brown eyes sweeping the room rapidly until they fell on her. 

"Diandra," he said in way of a formal greeting, his British accent apparent even in that one word.

"Adam," she replied, with a slight inclination of her head. "What brings you back to Seacouver?"

"Just passing though," he said, giving Joe a nod at the bar. "Tried MacLeod's place first, but no one was home."

"He's out of town," Dee informed him. "Blair and I are staying there tonight, if you had any ideas about using the spare apartment to crash in."

Adam shook his head. "I was planning on talking Joe out of his couch." His dark eyes quickly appraised Blair, who made a tremendous effort not to squirm under his scrutiny.

Seeing Adam's interest, Dee remembered her manners. "Adam Pierson, Blair Sandburg." Blair extended his free hand, which happened to be his left, and Adam shook it with his own. Blair immediately noted the Watcher tattoo, but filed his questions about a Watcher who was an Immortal away to be asked later, much later. 

"Come on, Blair," Dee said, the arm she had around his waist gently tugging him toward the door. "We can talk to Adam tomorrow, if he's still around." 

"Nice meeting you , Adam," Blair managed, before he found himself being dragged out into the parking lot. 

Dee fumbled in her coat pocket for the keys to the Cherokee, and unlocked the passenger side door. Blair reached for the handle, but her hand over his stopped him before he could open it. He looked back at her, a question in his eyes.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Lobo?" she asked gently, giving him one last chance to run as far and as fast as he could away from her.

Blair didn't even hesitate. "Yes," he replied, his hand sliding behind her neck, pulling her close for a passionate kiss. When they came up for air, he found she'd backed him into the side of the Jeep, the side mirror poking him under the armpit. "I do have one request though, can we go someplace a little more comfortable?" he said gesturing to the mirror. 

Laughing, Dee pressed her lips to his again quickly, then trotted around to the driver's side and climbed in. "Come on," she said, "the loft's only a few blocks from here."

Blair fastened his seatbelt as she started the engine, for one fleeting moment wondering what Jim would think if he could see him now. Then Dee's warm fingers entwining through his focused his thoughts on the night ahead of them.

* * *

Ellison awoke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest. He scanned the room quickly, finding nothing out of the ordinary. "Must have been a nightmare," he thought, sitting up, and running his hand through his sweat-dampened hair. For the life of him though, he couldn't remember much about it. A glance at the clock showed three am. He wondered if he pushed it, he could get the SFPD to process those prisoner transfer papers before 9 am. Then he could start back for Cascade. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something told him the sooner he got back there, the better.

Once again he thought about calling Blair, and this time gave in to the impulse. He tried the loft first, and got the machine. Trying the cell phone, his hopes were dashed when after a few rings, he got the message that the user was either out of the service area, or wasn't available. The prickling feeling on the back of his neck increased. Cursing Sandburg softly, he tried another number. The phone rang twice, and then a familiar voice said, "Hi, this is Dee, I can't come to the phone right now. You know how to use this thing, so do it if you want me to call you back." Ellison hung up without leaving a message. 

Foregoing anymore sleep, he headed for the shower. Maybe he could get those papers processed by 6, and be back in Washington by early afternoon. If Sandburg was off somewhere with that Pallas woman, there was no telling what kind of trouble he could get into.

* * *

The trip to Duncan's loft took a little longer than expected. Halfway there, Diandra realized there would be no food in either apartment since MacLeod was out of town, so they made a side trip to an all night market. They finally reached the dojo a little after one am. Climbing the stairs to the apartment's outside entrance in the dark, Blair juggled the groceries and his backpack, while Dee had both their overnight bags. Unlocking the door, she held it open for Blair to enter, then followed him inside, flipping on the lights. "Kitchen's to the right," she said, heading to the bedroom to stow their things. Blair put the perishables in the fridge, then took a look around the apartment. It was small but cozy, a living area was at the center of the room, and the far wall had two doorways, which he assumed were the bedrooms since Dee had disappeared through one of them. Next to the door they'd entered was a freight elevator, a reminder of the days when the building had been a warehouse.

He walked into the center of the room, and stood there a little awkwardly. "Okay, now what?" he asked himself. He'd forgotten how strange the first time with someone felt. In fact, right now he couldn't remember the last time he'd been with someone. He sat his backpack down next to one of the sofas, and wandered over to the stereo. Some music might be nice. He fiddled with the dials for a few minutes, but couldn't find a radio station to his liking. "Hey, Dee," he called to her, "you bring any CDs?"

"Um, yeah," her voice came floating back, "they're in a zip case in the bag I put on the table. I'll be out in a minute, I'm just putting sheets on the bed."

She was putting... sheets... on... the... bed. Blair shivered involuntarily. Oh, man, he had it bad. Finding the CD case, he opened it and found there was nothing he recognized. She must be really into customizing her music, he thought, finding titles like "Meditation," and "Workout #5." Well, "Meditation" sounded like it might be slow. He threw it in the player, and the strains of Santana's "Bella" filled the loft. He laughed out loud. What was it with Sentinels and Santana?

Dee entered the room at that moment, sneaking up behind Blair, and sliding her arms around his waist. Her lips nibbled at his neck, as she said, "Mmm that's nice. That would have been my choice, too."

He turned around in her arms, and kissed her lips gently, finding them a little lower than they had been before. Glancing down, he saw she was now barefoot, having taken off her boots in the bedroom. They danced together for a couple songs, sharing kisses, enjoying the feeling of their bodies pressed close together. Finally she led them over to the couch, turning out most of the lights as they went.

She snuggled up next to him, her hands finding the tie holding his hair back and releasing it. Tangling her fingers in it, she tilted his head back, her lips caressing his face and neck. He moaned deep in his throat, his own hands freeing her hair from the heavy braid she usually wore down her back. He stroked her hair and shoulders, feeling her soft kisses move lower as she began unbuttoning his shirt. She straightened up suddenly, her mouth capturing his, her tongue swirling in and out quickly, giving him just a taste of what was to come. She turned her attention back to his shirt buttons as he groaned and said, "You're driving me crazy, Dee."

"That's the idea," she replied, grinning at him, her hand slipping inside his shirt, her fingers lightly stroking his heated skin. The sensation went straight to his groin, and he jumped.

"God, Dee... " he breathed, "that's so good."

"You like, hmm," she answered, her lips and tongue joining her fingers in torturing him.

"Yesss... " Blair hissed, his brain finally realizing he would soon be naked and she would still be fully clothed if he didn't do something about it. He grasped the soft cotton of her blouse, and pulled it free from her jeans. She paused in what she was doing, letting him unbutton her shirt, helping him tug it off her shoulders, dropping it to the floor. His own shirt soon followed. The only thing between them now was her bra. Raising up on her knees, Dee straddled him, yanking her black sports bra off over her head, moaning as his hands traced lightly up her ribs, his mouth planting soft kisses across her chest. 

Snagging a handful of chestnut curls, she pulled his head up before he got carried away. Her mouth descended on his again, this time letting his tongue dance with hers as she lowered her body to his, moaning softly against his lips as skin met skin. His arms moved around her, pulling her closer, his fingers lightly outlining the muscles of her back and shoulders.

The intimate contact was only increasing their need for each other, and Dee could feel his desire burning against her own arousal. With a groan, she broke their kiss. "Think we can make it to the bedroom?" she asked, getting to her feet somewhat unsteadily. Blair's answer was unintelligible, but he followed her the few steps across the floor, falling with her in a tangle of arms and legs onto the bed. 

They made love slowly, touching, tasting, savoring each other, as Madonna's voice sang from the other room, something about "nothing really matters, love is all we need", words they took to heart. At the height of passion, she called his name, and he pressed her back into the pillows, their hands locked together above her head, their bodies moving in an intricate rhythm. "Lobo, look at me," she whispered, and he did, peering into eyes of blue flame, seeing the depth of her love for him. Then he was she, and she was he, and they were one, soaring high above the earth, the brilliant moon and stars a backdrop for their rapture.

* * *

Blair awoke to the sensation of being warm, almost uncomfortably so. Opening one eye, he discovered why. His blanket was 150 pounds of unclothed, modern-day Amazon. Dee was sprawled across him, one arm over his chest, and a leg wrapped around his hips. Her chin rested on his shoulder, and he could feel her soft breath tickling his ear. He lay there quietly, not wanting to wake her, feeling her heart beating against his ribs. He concentrated on its relaxed, steady rhythm, slowly realizing its echo beat inside his own chest. That was a little weird, he thought, but kind of cool. Grinning, he curled his arm up and brushed her hair out of her face. She wiggled her nose, but showed no other sign of waking up. He glanced at the clock, noting it was almost nine am. He stretched, feeling almost decadent. He hadn't slept this late since he had started training with Dee. Of course, they probably hadn't gotten to sleep until almost four.

He felt a silly smile spreading across his face as he remembered their passion. Dee had shown him things he'd never dreamed of. Like how the inside of his left elbow was an erogenous zone. She'd kissed him there, and he'd almost hit the ceiling. He'd discovered a few places like that on her body too, the small of her back, the lobe of her ear. The memories were intense enough to arouse him all over again. Just as he was beginning to get a little uncomfortable, he felt lips gently nibbling along his jaw. Turning his head to the side, he found her incredible blue eyes gazing into his own. "Hey," he said.

She smiled. "Hey," she replied, then nothing intelligent was said for quite a long time.

When they finally got out of bed, it was almost 11:30. Blair let Dee have the shower, and he padded into the kitchen, having thrown on a pair of sweats first. Coffee was on the top of his list, then he began slicing cheese and breaking eggs into a bowl in preparation for making omelets. By the time Diandra made her appearance, clad in the short blue robe he so liked, all the ingredients needed were to be combined and poured into the skillet. He gave her a quick kiss as he passed her on the way to the shower.

Dee was just pouring the first omelet into the pan, when she felt her Immortal sense tingle, followed by a knock at the door. Turning the heat down on the stove, she went to answer it. Methos slouched in the doorway, a sly grin on his face. "Ah, the lovebirds are awake," he said, sniffing the air appreciatively. "Is that eggs I smell?"

Stepping back, Diandra let the older man enter, leaving him to close the door behind him as she returned to the kitchen. Methos took a seat at the breakfast bar, and leaned his chin on his hands, his sharp eyes watching her intently.

"What do you want, Methos?" she finally asked in an irritated voice.

"I'd like a beer," he said, "but since I know you don't have any, I'll settle for that omelet."

Sighing, she slid the eggs from the skillet onto a plate and set it down in front of him. As an afterthought, she put a mug and the coffeepot in front of him too. "Okay, now you're fed. What do you want?"

"These are really good," he said around a mouthful. He washed it down with a swallow of coffee, then said, "I'm just curious about your friend. He's not one of us, and yet I sense he's not quite mortal either."

"You can wonder all you want; I don't have any answers for you." She started another omelet.

The dark haired man quirked an eyebrow at her turned back. "My, my, my, aren't we being a little bit bitchy this morning? Your young man not live up to your expectations? You know, Mac's going to be awfully disappointed when he finds out about lover boy."

Dee whirled on him, her spatula raised. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

"Why Dee, haven't you figured it out by now? Mac's too much of a gentleman to say anything, but that Scot has it bad for you." 

He was being just a little too smug for her taste, and she looked at him, hard. "I think you're being a prick this morning just to piss me off, Methos," she said, her tone dangerous.

"You know, that other sight of yours takes all the fun out of teasing you. But I had you going there, didn't I? You worried that if push came to shove your little mortal would be no match for one of us?" Methos paused, waiting for Dee to leap over the breakfast bar at him. Instead, she calmly turned her omelet, a secretive smile on her face. The ancient Immortal suddenly found himself flat on his back on the floor, his stool having been yanked out from under him. 

An angry anthropologist stood over him, hands clenched into fists. "This 'little mortal' can take care of himself. Dee's right, you are an ungrateful prick, Adam or Methos, or whatever the hell your name is. She lets you in here, feeds you breakfast, and tolerates your line of bullshit. If I were her, I would have killed you long ago."

"I did, actually," Dee piped up. "Twice. Things just kept getting in the way of me taking his head."

Blair walked around the prone Immortal and into the kitchen. Diandra handed him a plate of eggs. "So, Adam, I think you owe me for interrupting our morning," she said.

Getting to his feet, Methos righted his stool. "What do you want, Dee?"

"I want a workout. You, me, in the gym, fifteen minutes."

"Gods, Dee, you wipe the floor with me every time we spar."

"And I'm going to do it again today," she said, heading toward the bedroom to change her clothes.

Shaking his head, Methos said, "I should have stayed at Joe's."

Blair put his plate in the sink. "You got that right, man." He followed Dee into the other room.

* * *

Ellison exited the elevator and headed for the loft. Thank god that was over with. After dropping the transfer paperwork off at the station, he'd headed straight home. He'd been fighting a headache the whole drive back from San Francisco, and now all he wanted to do was check in with his guide and catch some Z's. Blair had to be home, his Volvo was parked in its usual place out back, but Jim had noticed that Diandra's Cherokee was gone. Just as well, she was the last person he wanted to deal with today.

Unlocking the door to the loft, he stepped over the threshold, belatedly aware of the three men inside. Dropping his overnight bag, he reached behind him for his weapon, but a blow to the back sent him to his knees. He came up charging though, knocking one of his attackers over the couch. Again he tried to draw his gun, and this time succeeded, only to have it knocked out of his hand by a solid kick. He threw a punch blindly, and felt it connect, the man falling to the floor in a daze. That left two of them, both circling him warily. Trying to draw a deep breath, Jim felt a stab of pain in his back, and knew that first blow had cracked ribs. Ignoring the ache, he went for the man closest to him. 

A punch to the stomach doubled the thug over, and Jim whirled to face the attack he knew was coming from behind. What he didn't expect was three feet of gleaming metal slashing into his side. Both hands clutching at the bleeding wound, Ellison pitched forward and passed out.

* * *

The sound of ringing steel echoed through the dojo. Dee and Methos had been at it for over half an hour. Blair watched from a bench to the side, simply in awe of his lover. He had known she was good with a sword, had watched her do solo drills numerous times, but to actually see her in action-- she was pure poetry. Her katana whirled and sliced through the air, catching the Excalibur Methos had produced from somewhere every time. Blair could even tell she was only working at about 3/4 her normal speed, not wanting to get past the other Immortal's guard and actually hurt him.

She could see Methos was tiring; he didn't spend nearly enough time training, as both she and MacLeod had told him many times. The older Immortal preferred avoiding a challenge by whatever means possible, be that leaving the country, or getting someone else, most often MacLeod, to fight for him. Taking pity on him, she ended it quickly, stepping in close as she caught his sword on hers, bringing them both up locked together. Methos stepped back and, tripping over the leg she had extended behind him, fell to the floor. Dee stepped on his wrist, and touched the end of her sword to his chest. "I think you're dead, Adam," she told him. Releasing him, she gave him a hand up from the floor.

"Thank god," he said. "Are you done punishing me?"

"Yeah-- not yet," Dee answered, going to the wall and taking down two quarterstaffs. "Come here, Lobo."

Rising from his seat, Blair walked out to her. She gave him one of the staffs, and tossed the other to Methos. "Let's see how you do against Blair, old man. He's getting too good for me; he knows all my moves." 

Handing his sword to Dee, Methos sighed and set himself. "I'm really, really sorry I insulted you, Dee. Can I go home now?"

Laughing, Dee shook her head. "Just go 15 minutes with him, and I'll let you go."

The two men circled each other, looking for a weakness. Blair felt his stomach slowly begin to knot, as he realized he was facing a 5000 year old fighter, who even though he might appear rusty with a sword, probably had forgotten more about fighting than Dee had been able to teach Blair in the short time she'd been working with him. 

Methos took the first swing, wanting to get the fight over with so he could nurse his bruised ego with a few beers at Joe's. Blair brought his staff up smoothly, blocking the blow, the force of it stinging his hands. It was a good pain though, and it helped him focus. He parried a few more blows, watching Methos closely, analyzing his style, and changing his own to match it. At the end of what Blair thought was 15 minutes, he stopped a roundhouse swing from the older man by stepping inside it and catching it on his vertical staff, the end firmly planted on the floor. Before Methos could disentangle his pole, Blair brought one of his other skills into play, landing a solid kick to the Immortal's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Methos dropped his staff and doubled over, wheezing.

When he could breathe again, he gave Dee a pitiful look. "Please, please tell me you're done beating up on me now."

"Okay," Dee started to say, when she heard a gasp from Blair. Turning around, she found him on his knees, both hands clutching his side. "Lobo!" she cried, moving to him immediately. By the time she reached him though, Blair was getting to his feet, shaking the strange sensation off. "What happened?" she asked worriedly.

Blair shook his head. "I don't know. For a couple seconds there, I felt this excruciating pain, then it went away as fast as it came. Must have been a muscle cramp or something." Not satisfied with his answer, Dee probed his side with her fingers, but even her heightened touch found nothing. 

Methos was gathering up his sword and preparing to leave, when the phone in the dojo's office rang. Dee ran to answer it. "DeSalvo's Dojo."

"Dee, I thought I might find you in the gym. This is Joe. I think we've found the man you're looking for. How soon can you get to the bar?"

She thought for a moment. "Give us 45 minutes to get cleaned up, and we'll be there." Hanging up the phone, she walked back into the gym. "Joe has something for us, Lobo. Let's go get changed. You can let yourself out, Adam?" Methos nodded, and Dee and Blair got on the elevator and headed upstairs.

True to her word, Blair and Dee entered Joe's bar 45 minutes later, having sprinted through two showers, dish-washing and sheet changing. The bearded man was waiting for them, and ushered them into his office. "Finally heard from your watcher last night, Dee, after you left. She was sitting out in the parking lot most of the night, waiting for you to leave," he said with a chuckle. "I told her she could take today off, if she would go home and run through the profiles we'd looked at yesterday." Joe started up the Watcher database, and while it loaded, he continued his explanation. "Judy's a pretty smart lady, young, but a good head on her shoulders. After she didn't recognize anyone in the files we'd pulled up, she looked in the inactive file, and hit pay dirt." An old photo of a man with long hair and scraggly beard came up on the screen.

"This," Joe said, "is the last known photo of Phillipe Seis, taken in 1969. He disappeared from our records after that, and was assumed dead. He fits what you told me yesterday, Dee. He's 275, and spent most of his young immortal life as a pirate. Quite the Caribbean terror according to his chronicle. Does he look at all familiar to either of you?"

Diandra studied the picture for a moment, then shook her head. "No, not to me. How about you, Lobo?"

Pulling out his glasses, Blair slipped them on, and moved closer to the screen. "There's something about the eyes... Joe, you have some imaging software in here right? Like we use at the police station to do composites?"

Nodding slowly, Joe said, "Yes, yes we do. We use it to update Immortals files when they change their appearance, and we don't have a current photo." He tapped a few keys, and then the program was running.

"May I?" Blair asked, and Joe rolled his chair out of the way, letting the anthropologist at the computer. With a few quick clicks of the mouse, Blair imported the photo into the new program, and told the computer to remove the beard, and trim and darken the hair. Another click of the mouse, and the computer applied his changes to the photo. As the new photo loaded on the screen, Blair gasped.

Dee leaned toward him, her hand going to his shoulder. "What is it?"

"God, no," Blair said in a hushed whisper, "that's Evan Kendall."

"Who?" Joe and Dee chorused in unison.

Hitting print, Blair said, "Three years ago I was responsible for sending him to prison. He was a big wig in Cascade, a big donor to the university. As a member of the anthro staff, I attended a fund-raiser at his mansion. While looking for the bathroom, I accidentally opened the door to his art collection. Just my luck that the last time he was in there, he hadn't closed it all the way, and the lock didn't catch." Blair shook his head, "Just dumb luck. There were hundreds of paintings on the walls, hung floor to ceiling, climate-controlled, the whole bit. Which would have been fine, except even I, who took a single class in art history ten years ago, recognized that most of the paintings hadn't been seen since World War II and earlier." He paused to take a breath, and Dee's fingers squeezed his shoulder.

"What happened?" Joe asked.

"I got out of there as fast as I could, and once I found the restroom, I called Simon. He didn't believe me at first, but once he contacted the Feds, they were there with a warrant before the party was even over. They arrested Kendall in front of all his society friends. He was furious. He was even more furious when I testified at his trial. They sentenced him to twenty-five years in prison at a federal penitentiary. There's no way he could be out now, unless he escaped." Reaching up, he ran his fingers through his hair. "He threatened to kill me, Dee," he whispered, the blood slowly draining from his face.

"Oh, Lobo," she said, pulling him into a comforting embrace.

"That's why he was on campus yesterday," he said, his words muffled by her shoulder. "He was looking for me--looking for me--OH GOD, JIM!" Pulling away from her, Blair glanced wildly around the room for a phone. Joe pointed it out to him on the desk. Snatching it up, Blair dialed the number for Jim's cell phone, then just as quickly hung up as he got the user unavailable message. Panicking now, he tried the loft, and was relieved to get a busy signal "Thank you, thank you!" he said fervently, rolling his eyes heavenward. Taking a deep breath, he called the station and asked for Simon.

"Banks," came the short reply.

"Simon, this is Blair, do you know where Jim is?"

Puzzled, Captain Banks said slowly, "Yes, he was here about an hour ago, dropping off his paper work, then headed home. Why, isn't he there?"

"I don't know, Simon, I'm not there, I'm in Seacouver. It's a long story, but I have to have you check on something for me. Is Evan Kendall still in jail?"

"As far as I know, why?"

Blair swallowed with difficulty. "I just found out he was seen on Rainier campus yesterday. Just check for me, Simon, please. Call me on my cell phone when you get an answer." He glanced at Dee, and she nodded. "We're on our way back to Cascade right now."

While Blair had been on the phone, Dee had taken over the computer, printing out all the records on Phillipe Seis, AKA Evan Kendall. Grabbing them off the printer, she snatched up her trench coat and gave Joe a peck on the cheek. "I'll call you later, let you know how this turns out." 

Rising to his feet, Blair hung up the phone, and followed Dee out the door. Hearing the exit to the bar close behind them, Joe picked up the phone, and dialed a number. "Judy, I know I told you you could have today off, but something's come up. Diandra is on her way back to Cascade now. You can probably pick her up at her apartment in about an hour. Thanks, Judy." He set the receiver back in the cradle and rubbed his hand over his eyes. He hoped whatever deity Diandra believed in was looking out for her, looking out for her and Blair both.

* * *

The searing pain in his side woke Jim. Finding the pain dial, he turned it down to a dull roar, and tried to sit up. The scrape of metal on concrete filled his ears, and he was aware of a heavy weight around his neck. Deciding a sitting position wasn't such a good idea, he remained prone, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. He was in a small, windowless room, the only light coming from under the door. It was completely empty, except for him, and a thick chain that stretched from a ring in the wall to a metal collar around his neck. Both ends of the chain were fastened in place by strong padlocks. As he surveyed the room, he could see that it was oddly shaped, almost a pie slice, the wall at his back being the curve of the slice, and the door opposite him the point.

He examined his injury next, noting that his captors had at least bandaged it, though the gauze they'd taped over it was stiff with blood, and he could feel the precious liquid still oozing from the wound, though at a much slower rate than before. It didn't take someone with his training, though, to realize that if he didn't get medical attention soon, he would most likely bleed to death.

Turning up his hearing, he noticed a faint roaring sound, like when he put a seashell to his ear. Focusing on it more closely, he realized it was the sound of the surf striking some kind of breakwater, but where along the miles of Cascade coastline he was, he couldn't tell. He turned his attention to the sounds inside the building, and located three voices, most likely the men who had kidnapped him. He listened to their conversation for a few minutes, and realized he had not been the real target of their attack. One of them, the leader by the sound of it, was bent on revenge against Sandburg. Jim had just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and they had taken him to use as bait. 

"Be safe, Chief, please be safe," Jim whispered to whatever gods were listening. "When you find out I'm missing don't do anything stupid, let Simon know, let him handle it." Exhausted, Jim closed his eyes, and fell into a feverish sleep.

* * *

Dee steered the Jeep rapidly toward Cascade, the speedometer hovering 15 miles over the sped limit, while Blair continued to try to get Jim on the phone. The line at the loft was still busy, and he was almost sure something had happened to Jim. As he clicked the disconnect button, the phone chirped, and he answered it with an anxious "Jim?"

"Sorry, Sandburg, it's Simon."

"Simon, Jim's in trouble, I know it. I've been getting a busy signal at the apartment for the last half hour."

"I've got some men on the way over there now. You were right about Kendall. He was supposedly killed in a prison fight three days ago, but then his body disappeared from the morgue. They're thinking the whole thing was a ruse for him to escape. I'll call you back as soon as I know anything more. Hang on just a minute." Simon put Blair on hold for what seemed like an eternity, then came back on the line. "Jim's not at the loft, but it looks like there was a struggle, and his truck's parked out back. I'm leaving for there right now, Blair."

Blair glanced at Dee. "Tell him 15 minutes, Lobo," she said, edging the gas pedal closer to the floor, the Cherokee leaping ahead. 

Relaying the info to Captain Banks, Blair laid the cell phone in his lap, his fingers tightening around it. "I should have been there, I should have been there," he whispered.

"You can't blame yourself, Lobo," Dee told him, her voice gentle. "If you had been there, Jim might be fine, but you would most likely be dead. I don't think Jim would find that an acceptable alternative and neither do I." Blair glanced up at her, finding her eyes a strange contradiction of love and rage. "If anything's happened to him, we will find him. And Kendall is mine." The intensity on her face at those words was frightening, and Blair was suddenly very glad this fierce warrior was on his side.

Diandra made a little better time once she was inside the city limits than she thought she would, and she was pulling to a stop in front of the loft ten minutes later. Blair was out of the car and running up the stairs before Dee had the engine turned off. She followed him inside a few minutes later, bringing their bags, and dropping them off in her apartment before crossing the hall. 

He stood in the open doorway of the loft, watching the forensic team at work. Simon was just inside the door, talking on the phone, gesturing with an unlit cigar. Dee came up behind Blair sliding her arm around his waist and squeezing reassuringly. "Have they... " she started, and then she caught a whiff of blood. "Auggh," she said, putting her hand over her mouth and turning away. Cursing under her breath, she tried to turn down her sense of smell. 

She felt Blair's hand on her arm, as he came out of his shell-shocked state long enough to help her. "Turn the scent dial down, Dee," he said gently, his other hand rubbing her back. She almost had it under control when Captain Banks noticed them.

"Sandburg!" he bellowed. "What's that civilian doing in here? Get her out of here, now!"

"Simon," Blair began, then stopped as he realized his voice had cracked.

Dee looked up at the tall black man. "We'll be over in my apartment," she said, taking charge of the situation. "Please let us know when you're finished in here." She led Blair across the hall and inside 308, leaving the door open. 

Dee took a seat on the sofa, where she could keep an eye on the activity across the hall. Blair paced anxiously, berating himself for being unable to stop what had happened to his partner. Coming to a halt in front of her, he finally voiced his darkest fear. "There's an awful lot of blood in there, Dee. Do you think he's... ." He couldn't say the words.

Grasping his wrist, she pulled him down next to her on the couch. "No, no, I don't, Lobo. Believe me, you would know it if he were dead. In here," she said, placing her hand on his chest. "It would hurt like nothing you've ever felt in your life. You don't feel that way do you?" He shook his head. "Then the connection is still there. If your police friends don't come up with anything, we can use that connection to find him."

"What if we're too late?" Blair said. "What if we don't find him in time? We don't even know how long he's been gone, how long he's been hurt."

Sliding an arm around his shoulders, Dee pulled him into a comforting embrace. He resisted at first, then collapsed against her. "We do know how long he's been injured, Blair. I'm betting he was hurt at the same time you felt that pain in the gym. That was a little over three hours ago. The trail is still fresh, and I'm sure your friends will find something to go on."

Blair shook his head, wanting to believe in the kind of spiritual connection she was talking about, but at the same time afraid to put his trust in something he couldn't test or measure. He felt her fingers stroking his hair, and he buried his face in her neck, letting her strength support him. He could hear her whispering softly to him. He couldn't catch all the words, but it sounded like she was telling him to take half her strength, and she would take half his pain. Her offer sounded so tempting... he was so scared for Jim, so afraid of losing him. He couldn't imagine his life with out the detective in it. "Please, Dee," he whispered, "please help me."

Her hand moved from around his back to grasp his. Bringing their clasped hands up between them, she concentrated, and spoke a few words in a language he couldn't understand. Even through his closed eyelids, he could see the point where their hands met glow with a soft blue light. The moment was over so quickly, Blair thought he must have imagined it, yet somehow his heart no longer felt quite as heavy as it had. He glanced up at Dee, and she smiled and kissed his forehead gently. "'Tis done," she said. "We are bound." 

For a brief moment, Blair felt panic. "Jim, what about Jim?" he asked anxiously, suddenly afraid he had entered into something that would drive the sentinel out of his life.

"Jim is right here," she reassured him, once again putting her hand over his heart. "And right here," she said as she put his hand on her chest. "Three is a powerful number, Lobo. I am now bound to you, and through you to Jim." A small frown flickered on her lips. "Though Jim might take exception to that idea."

Blair had a hundred more questions, but at that moment Simon stuck his head in the door. "We're all through in there, Sandburg. Rafe and Brown got the description of a van one of your neighbors saw parked outside most of the night. One of the men in it fits the description of Kendall. We're trying to trace the van now."

"Thanks, Simon," he said, suddenly feeling like he had some control over the situation. Rising, he held out his hand to her. "Come on, Dee, I want us to go over the loft the way I would with Jim. Maybe we can find something they missed." She followed him across the hall, putting her champion senses in the guide's capable hands.

Simon came back upstairs after giving instructions to his men, wanting to reassure Sandburg that they were doing everything they could to find Ellison. What he saw when he entered the loft gave him a shock. The Pallas woman was crouched on the floor near the slowly drying pool of blood. Blair knelt next to her, one hand on her back, speaking to her in a voice Simon knew from experience was pitched for Sentinel ears only. His first thought was, "My god, Jim was right to mistrust her; she is another Alex Barnes." He almost said so out loud, but Blair and Dee had gotten to their feet, and he was leading her to another area of the apartment. He could see Blair asking her a question, and her shaking her head. 

"Okay, Dee," Blair said, "I guess that's enough. If there's nothing here, there's nothing here. We'll have to hope Simon comes through with that van."

"I'm sorry, Lobo," she said. "I've never gone over a crime scene before. I don't know what I'm looking for, hell, I could have found something, and not know it."

"It's okay," he reassured her. "I know you, if there was anything here, we would have found it. Thanks for trying." He brushed the back of his fingers along her cheek, in what Simon thought to be an peculiarly intimate gesture for two people who were neighbors, or even sentinel and guide. It looked more like a lover's caress. 

Dee became aware of his presence. Her back stiffened, and she let go of Blair's hand. She inclined her head an inch in Banks' direction, and Blair turned toward Simon.

He was clearly flustered by his captain's appearance. "Uh, sir, we were... uh... "

Captain Banks decided to cut through the bullshit. Explanations could wait until after they found Ellison. "Did you find anything we missed?"

"No, sir," Blair replied. 

Simon glared at both of them, noticing that Sandburg fidgeted under his gaze, but Diandra met his eyes calmly, her expression neutral. "Well, let me know if you come up with anything, and I'll do the same." Turning, the tall man left the apartment, heading back to the station to supervise the search.

"Oh that's just great," Blair said in disgust, as soon as Simon was out of earshot. "Depending on how long he was standing there, he probably has a pretty good idea you're a Sentinel."

Shrugging, Dee said, "It doesn't matter now. Finding Ellison is the important thing. Come on." Leading him back across the hallway to her apartment, she closed the door behind them, then led him into the center of the studio, pulling a workout mat down on the floor. Taking a seat on the mat, she motioned for Blair to do the same.

Once she had them both sitting face to face in a cross-legged meditation position, she allowed him to ask his questions. "What are we doing? How is this going to help us find Jim?"

"We're going to use that connection we've talked about... ."

"I can't, I don't know how... " Blair protested. "Hell, half the time I have no idea what I'm doing as a Guide; I just make it up as I go along. Jim deserves better... "

Dee grasped his fluttering hands and rubbed her thumbs gently over the backs of them. "Blair, you have to trust in yourself. I know you can do this. You've walked the spirit world before, what makes this so different?"

Shaking his head furiously, he said, "No, no I haven't. That's always been Jim's thing; he's been the one with the visions and the jaguar... I don't have that power... Incacha made me Jim's Shaman, but he didn't have time to teach me what to do... " He was beginning to hyperventilate.

Reaching up, Dee clasped the back of his neck, forcing him to focus on her words. "If you don't have faith in yourself, do you have faith in me?"

Blair nodded slowly. "I don't know... I... you were a priestess, right, that's what you said... " 

"Yes, I was a priestess. I've walked the spirit path more than once. But I'm not Jim's soulmate, you are. I can take us there, but you're the only one who can find him."

"And what if I can't? What if Jim dies because we can't find him in time?" Blair's voice had taken on a panic-stricken edge.

Dee captured his face in her hands. "Lobo, Blair, do you trust me?"

His tear-filled eyes met her electric blue ones. Searching for any sign of doubt in them, he found only a quiet confidence, and a strength he wished he possessed. "Yes," he finally whispered, "I trust you."

She nodded then, satisfied with his answer. "Then we will find him." Taking his hands in hers once again, she said, "Take a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Let out all the tension, all the fear with each breath. Relax, and find your center."

After a few minutes, Blair felt the familiar calm settle over him. "I'm ready," he said.

"Good, just close your eyes and let your spirit go. There's nothing to be afraid of, I will be your anchor." So saying, Diandra began to chant in what Blair had come to recognize as ancient Greek. 

Closing his eyes, he felt everything fade away, except for the warmth of Dee's hands still clasping his own, and then even that security vanished. Frightened, he opened his eyes. The sights, sounds and smells of hundreds of plants and animals assaulted his senses. Turning around slowly, he saw trees surrounding him on all sides, extending so high over head they blocked out the sun, relegating his vision to shades of black and white. No path or trail marred the unbroken foliage.

"Now what?" he said aloud, and jumped in surprise when it came out as a growl. For the first time, he took a good look at himself. In place of the clothes he'd been wearing, there was now fur. Lots and lots of silver fur. He raised one hand, and a paw lifted from the dirt floor of the forest. Terrified now, he opened his mouth and screamed. A blood-curdling howl echoed back at him through the jungle.


	6. Chapter 6

//Lobo! It's okay. Stop that howling, it hurts my ears.//

Blair closed his lupine jaws with a snap. That was Dee's voice, but it was inside his head. //Dee?// He thought the question, giving it a little mental push outward.

//Not so loud, wolf, I hear you.// The underbrush rustled, and a black mare entered the small clearing, head lowered in greeting. The mare touched noses with the wolf, snuffling loudly. //See, it's okay, it's me.//

The wolf sat back on his haunches, gazing up and up at the huge midnight horse. If he'd had any doubts they were dispelled by the mare's brilliant blue eyes. //Oh, wow, Dee, you're beautiful!//

The mare swished her tail and nudged him with her head, nearly bowling him over. //Glad you noticed. Now we have a job to do. Put that nose of yours to work, Lobo.//

//My nose?//

//A figure of speech, Blair. Jim is here; the jaguar is here. Listen with your heart. It will lead you to him.// 

Blair stood, and slowly turned round in a circle, focusing all his energy, all his thoughts, all his heart on Jim. //Jim,// he thought, //if you can hear me, give me a sign.// Nothing. He shook his head, and whined low in his throat. //I can't find him!// he cried to Dee.

The mare lowered her head, nipping at the ruff of fur on the wolf's neck. //Try again, Lobo. Just relax. Pick the direction that calls to you most strongly, and we will go that way.//

Again Blair slowly circled the clearing, searching for some sound, some sign, some feeling... There! Something was tugging at him, wrapping fingers around his heart, urging him to follow. //This way!// he called gleefully, dashing into the forest.

With a snort, the mare followed. The wolf quickly out paced her in the thick underbrush, the mare's bigger size forcing her to take the long way round obstacles the wolf dashed over, under or through. She would catch up to him when he paused to check his direction, then he would take off again, tail flying behind him, tongue lolling. She was picking her way through a particularly dense thicket when she heard Blair calling her anxiously. //Dee! Over here! I've found him!//

Breaking through the last stand of trees, she galloped down a steep hillside, sliding to a stop in front of a very strange sight. Plopped down in the middle of a field was part of a building. No, she decided, it was more like part of a room with the black jaguar in the center of it. A curving brick wall rose from the meadow behind the cat, and a concrete floor was underneath his feet. The rest of the room was open to the meadow and sky. The silver wolf lay alongside the prone cat, his muzzle resting over the jaguar's shoulder.

A whine escaped the wolf's throat //He's hurt, Dee, hurt bad. You have to help him.// 

The mare concentrated, and then her image shimmered, like ripples on a pond. When the shimmering stopped, Dee knelt beside the silver wolf, clad in the tunic and armor of an Amazon warrior, a sword strapped to her back. She ran a hand over the wolf's shaggy head. 

//Wow! How'd you do that?// Blair asked.

"Just visualize yourself as human again. It takes some concentration, but... " Blair's form shimmered under her hand, and she found her fingers buried in brown curls instead of silver fur. 

"Oooh," Blair said. "That's gross. It's like walking through jello." He glanced down at himself. "Not the shaman outfit again," he groaned.

"I think you look kind of cute in that loincloth, um, thing," Dee said. She reached out toward the black jag, "Now let's see how bad this--" With a roar, the cat lunged at her, his claws narrowly missing her throat. Dee scrambled back a few feet. "Okay, Lobo will see how badly you're hurt. Go ahead, Blair. He trusts you." Blair moved closer to the cat, gently rolling him on his side, so Dee could see the long, deep wound that ran diagonally down his right flank. She also noted the heavy metal collar around his neck, and the chain leading to the wall.

"How's his pulse, Lobo?"

Blair laid his hand on the great cat's chest. "Fast, but thready. He's wheezing when he breathes, too." He turned anxious eyes toward her. "Is there anything we can do?"

"I don't know. I've never tried healing from the spirit world before. And he's not gonna let me get close enough to touch him, let alone I don't think my touch is going to affect him. Let me try something. Just hold on to him in case I'm wrong." Dee moved around behind the jag, and grabbed for his tail. Her hand went straight through it. "That's what I thought. You can touch him because you are bound to him, I can't."

A frown creased Blair's forehead. "But you said before you were bound to him too."

"Through you, Blair, only through you. If you weren't here, I wouldn't be able to see Jim, let alone help him." Dee sat back on her heels, her mind turning their options over. Ellison was severely injured, and they still were no closer to finding out where he was. She suspected the sentinel was probably unconscious, and that was why they were interacting with the jaguar.

"Dee," Blair said, interrupting her thoughts, "if your only connection to Jim is through me, can't you heal through me, use me as a conduit?"

"It's worth a try. If this works, I don't want to hear another word about you not knowing any of this shaman stuff." She moved over beside Blair, placing her hands over his. "Just hold your hands about an inch above the wound. We'll start at the bottom, and move to the top very slowly, okay?" He nodded, and Dee closed her eyes in concentration, reaching deep inside herself and projecting her Quickening out through her hands. She quickly found it took an extra effort to push the energy through Blair and into the jag, but it was working. She could feel the edges of the wound beginning to knit together. She knew she didn't have enough strength to completely heal him, especially if she wanted to bring both of them back safely from the spirit world, but what she could give him was enough to stabilize him, to keep him hanging on until help arrived. 

Satisfied she'd done as much as she could, Diandra ceased her work, and leaned heavily on Blair. "Are you okay?" he asked her.

She nodded. "I'll be fine. See if you can connect with him enough to talk to Jim." Blair gave it his best shot, but he couldn't get the cat to change into Jim, or to communicate mentally with him the way he and Dee had done in their animal forms. 

"Damn it," Dee said. "What we need is some outside help, someone in the spirit world who is not bound by the constraints we are, who is not tied to Jim." As if in answer to her plea, the shrieking cry of a falcon came from over head. Dee stood on unsteady legs. "Goddess," she whispered, "Lydia!" And then the black mare was bounding across the field, her hooves churning up great clods of soil as she galloped after the soaring bird. 

It took Blair a moment to figure out what was going on, then he shifted into wolf form, and loped after her. Dee's trail led him to the top of a rocky cliff, where he found the mare staring down below at another cliff, this one with the surf beating at its foot. //He's there,// she said, nodding her head in that direction. //In the tower.//

A powerful beam of light swept across horse and wolf and on out to sea. //A lighthouse!// Blair exclaimed. //I recognize this, I know where this is!//

//Then we must hurry back. Are you ready?//

//Yes,// he replied, then looked skyward before the spirit world faded around him. //Thank you, Companion,// he called after the red falcon. Wheeling in the heavens, the bird screamed in joyous response.

//Thank you, my love,// Dee whispered, then the world faded to black.

She opened her eyes to a topsy turvey world. Someone was calling her name, but it seemed like they were a long way away, and she was tired, so tired. She closed her eyes again, and the annoying world went away.

The second time she awoke, she kept her eyes closed, reaching out with her hearing first, finding the familiar beat of the Guide's heart. She let the sound wash over her, each beat grounding her, giving her strength, calling her back from the darkness. She breathed in his scent, finding it comforting, but tinged with the metallic odor of fear. That knowledge gave her the motivation to push the darkness the rest of the way back, finally opening her eyes. 

She gazed up into the worried face of her Companion, (Companion? Where did that come from?) seeing relief flood his features as he realized she was awake. "Hey, Dee, you're back," he said softly, considerate of sensitive ears. 

"Mmm," she managed, "how long was I out?"

"About 30 minutes, give or take." Blair helped her to a sitting position, and she realized they were still on the workout mat in the studio. "You gave me a real scare. I figured you were just exhausted from healing Jim, but I was about ready to call for help if you didn't wake up soon. Do you have a headache?" he asked, reminded of the last time she had healed.

"A little one, not bad." Leaning over her legs, she stretched. "What time is it?"

"Almost seven," he replied. "We were in the... " he hesitated, "the spirit world for a long time."

Looking up, she smiled at him. "Well, we had a lot of work to do. Help me over to the sofa, and let's put all our information together and come up with a plan for rescuing Jim."

Blair did as she asked, getting her settled on the cushions, and bringing her the info they'd gotten from Joe on Phillipe Seis. While he fixed some soup for her, figuring she would need to replenish the energy she had expended, Dee went over what they knew, and drew up a plan of action. When Blair came back to the living area, she handed it to him, taking the mug of hot liquid in exchange. He sat down on the sofa next to her, and she flipped her legs over his lap. Giving her a bright smile, he rubbed her knee with one hand as he perused the paper she had given him.

Finally, he looked up at her. "So you figure Kendall isn't going to contact me until tomorrow at the earliest?"

She nodded at him over the rim of the mug. "Immortals are nothing if not creatures of habit. According to the Watcher chronicles, Seis liked to let the families of his kidnapping victims worry and fret over at least 24 hours. He won't change that pattern now, especially since he thinks we have no idea what happened to Jim. That's our big advantage. We know who and where he is. He thinks we're gonna be tripping over ourselves in the dark until he drops a clue our way. That's why a rescue tonight will catch him completely off guard."

For the first time since he'd realized his partner was in danger, an expression of hope crossed Blair's face. "Okay, I'll call Simon and let him know where Jim is-- "

Dee's hand on his arm stopped him in mid-sentence. "Blair, I don't think it's going to be that easy. First of all, Kendall is Immortal. He's not going to give a shit about the Cascade PD. Yes, he is isolated, and pretty much trapped in that lighthouse but right now, it's looking more like a fortress. The PD surrounds it, he kills Jim, gets his jollies, and takes a dive off the cliff in back. Simon thinks he's dead, and Kendall's knocking on your door tomorrow while they're dragging the cove for him. The only way you're going to be certain he's not going to come after you is if-- "

Blair cut her off. "Is if you kill him. I can't let you do that, Dee. Jim is my partner not yours. I can't let you risk your life for him."

Dee made an impatient noise in her throat. "I'm not going to argue that with you now, Lobo. Let's just go over the rest of what we know. Kendall had help taking Jim yesterday, probably two or three guys. That help is probably also at the lighthouse. They are going to be Kendall's first line of defense. That's not a big problem. What is a big problem is the time. At a certain distance away, maybe 50-100 yards, Kendall will know I'm there. What we have to do is reach Jim before he does. It can be done, Blair, but its going to take perfect timing and teamwork. I am going to have to engage him in combat while you rescue Jim."

Blair stared at the paper in his hands, her sketches of the area around the lighthouse and the positions of the participants in this drama now seen for what they were: battle plans. "You have this all figured out," he said softly.

"Yes," she answered him. "Kendall won't refuse my challenge, and really all I have to do is be in his way. He won't get to Jim or you, before you can escape."

He looked back up at her, tears burning his eyes. "Dee, I can't--"

"I know this is frightening, Blair, and I know this isn't how you're used to doing things. You're used to Jim and Simon making all the decisions, and now it's just you and me. These plans aren't set in stone, Lobo. I have my champion senses, you have your guide abilities. We need to use them to check this place out, make sure this is something we can handle ourselves. If it looks like we can't, we call for backup. The only problem with that is it increases the risk of Kendall escaping."

"And Jim dying," Blair thought. "What do you want to do?" he asked out loud.

"We wait until it's full dark out, and take a run up there. Once we're actually there, we can decide what to do." Finishing her soup, she set the mug down on the table. "Eleven p.m. ought to be dark enough."

"What do we do until then?"

She shifted to a sitting position, and said, "I don't know about you, but I'm going to get some rest." Rising, she headed off to the bathroom, and came back a few minutes later to find Blair stretched out on the sofa cushions, having kicked off his shoes and set aside the plans. He patted the place beside him on the couch. A soft smile curving her lips, Dee lay down next to him, resting her head on his chest, and feeling his arms wrap securely around her. "What's all this for?" she asked, once she was comfortable. 

His fingers began gently stroking her back. ""Just... because," he said quietly. 

Dee hugged him a little tighter. She understood his fear only too well. He was having to face the possibility of losing both Jim and her tonight. She wished there was something she could say to him, some assurance she could give him that everything would turn out all right, but she knew from experience there was nothing she could do except hold him and hope that was enough. The sound of his heart underneath her ear, and his rhythmic touch soon lulled her to sleep.

*****

By midnight they had reached the lighthouse, parking the Cherokee off the road a quarter of a mile away. They hiked the rest of the way in across the rocky ground, Dee guiding Blair, since they couldn't risk a light. Settling into a surveillance position at the outer limits of Immortal warning systems, Dee focused her senses on the tower, Blair crouched beside her guarding against a zone out.

"There's only three of them, besides Jim," she told him. "Two of them on the bottom level of the lighthouse, one of them climbing the stairs to the top. Jim is in one of the ground level rooms." She cocked her head toward the building, listening to the other sentinel's vital signs. "He sounds conscious. Do you think you can reach him, Lobo, let him know we're coming?"

"I'll try," Blair said. "Jim?" he called softly. "If you can hear me, say something, man."

"I think he hears you, his heart rate's increased."

"Chief? Is that you?" Jim said. Dee relayed his words to the guide. "Who's that with you, Blair?"

"It's the cavalry, Jim. We're coming to get you out of there," Blair replied, grinning from ear to ear.

"Chief, what are you up to? Is Simon there?" Jim had a million other questions, but he knew his partner wasn't going to give him the answers.

"Let's just say this is an unofficial party," Blair said. He glanced at Dee, who nodded. "Get ready, Jim, we're going to be there in a couple minutes."

Dee stood, her katana in hand. "Ready, Lobo?" she asked.

Blair tightened his grip on his staff. "As I'll ever be."

She took a long look at him then, memorizing every line of his beautiful face, his fierce blue eyes, his full lips and strong jaw, the way the chestnut curls that had escaped his ponytail blew around his face in the sea breeze. Leaning toward him, she pressed her lips against his gently, and said, "I love you, Lobo," then she started down the slight hill toward the lighthouse.

Blair remained where he was for several stunned seconds, then he raced after her, catching up to her as she said, "Kendall knows we're here." Breaking into a run, she sprinted the last 50 yards, an Amazon war cry spilling from her lips, Blair hot on her heels.

*****

Ellison was on his feet, the wound in his side a dull ache mostly forgotten in his anxiety. "Blair, damn it, what the hell do you think you're doing!?" He yanked futilely at the chain leashing him to the wall of his small prison. He could hear sounds of combat from outside, then silence broken only by hurried footsteps. "Lobo, here!" he heard Diandra's voice call, and then she was outside the door. "Stand back from the door, Ellison!" she yelled. He pressed as close to the far wall as he could get, and with a crackle of energy and a loud crash, the door blew off its hinges.

Diandra stood outlined in the opening for a moment, her electric gaze meeting his for a split second. Whirling around, she charged up the spiral staircase, her words ringing in the round chamber. "Evan Kendall! I, Diandra of Delphi, Champion of Cascade, challenge you!" The sound of swords clashing floated back down the stairs. 

Blair was at his side in a moment, tossing a long staff to the ground and yanking a pair of bolt cutters from his jacket. "Jim! Are you okay?" his guide asked, anxious eyes going quickly to his injury. 

"I'm fine, Chief, I'm fine. Just get me out of this thing," he said, his hands tugging at the metal band around his neck.

"Okay, man, just bend down so I can reach you." Jim knelt on one knee, and Blair applied the cutters to the padlock on the collar. With a sharp snap, the lock sheared in two, and the collar sprang open. Stuffing the tool back in his pocket, Blair helped Jim up. "Come on, we have to get out of here," he said.

His arm over his guide's shoulders for support, Jim allowed himself to be led toward the exit. Two men lay in crumpled heaps just outside the lighthouse entrance. Jim cast a surprised look at his partner. "Your work?" he asked. 

"Yeah," he replied with a grin, "mine and Dee's. " As he said her name, Blair stumbled and fell, dragging Jim down with him.

"Chief?" Jim queried. The younger man's eyes were wide and unseeing, his hand clutching his chest. Razor sharp pain radiated from his right shoulder to his left hip. Jim lowered him all the way to the grass, terror knotting his stomach. "Blair, talk to me! "

He jerked under the sentinel's hands, as if awakened from a trance. "Oh, god, Dee!" he cried, then he was rolling out from the other man's grasp and running back toward the lighthouse. Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached the top of the lighthouse in moments, dashing across the lens room and through the open door onto the catwalk surrounding the top of the tower. 

Dee was on her back on the narrow walkway, her sword held perpendicular to her body, one hand on the hilt, the other on the back of the blade. Only the strength of her arms was keeping Kendall's sword at bay as it pressed down on her katana. Her white shirt was torn and stained with blood, her face the blank mask of a zone out. 

"Dee," Blair whispered, instinctively analyzing and reacting to the Champion's plight, "turn down the pain dial, turn it all the way down." For a moment, there was no reaction, then a snarl curled her lips, and both her feet kicked up and out, connecting with Kendall's stomach, knocking him back.

Rolling onto her shoulders, Dee flipped up to her feet. Her sword flashed through the air, and she was on the attack again, the two blades throwing sparks each time they met. Blair stepped back inside the lens room, out of the way. The lamp continued to turn, its powerful beam illuminating the dueling Immortals for a brief moment with each rotation.

Their deadly dance brought them round once again to the doorway. They maneuvered for position, Dee with her back to the railing, Kendall with his to the door. As Blair watched in horrified fascination, his sentinel pushed past him. "NO! JIM! You can't interfere!" The guide's words came too late, as Ellison hit Kendall from behind, knocking him into a startled Dee. Her eyes met Blair's over Kendall's shoulder for a brief moment, their blue depths expressing her love and her sorrow. Then with an agonizing shriek, the metal railing gave way, the two Immortals plunging over the cliff.

"NOOOOO!" Blair screamed, as he lunged after Jim, only his arms around Jim's waist keeping him from following the others. Sentinel and guide tumbled to the catwalk, Blair scrambling to the edge and peering down at the dark, jagged rocks below. "She's okay, she's okay, she's okay," he chanted, trying to reassure himself.

And then the Quickening began.

Lightning flashed a brilliant blue-white, striking the cliff, the rocks, and the lighthouse. Grabbing his guide around the waist, Jim hauled him back into the lens room, turning his eyesight down as far as it would go. Still the violent explosions blinded him. Blair was clinging to him, in the full throes of a panic attack, his heart racing, his breathing ragged, his body rocked by great shudders. "Noooo, Dee, noooo," he cried. 

A long tendril of electricity arced from the catwalk through the window above Jim and Blair, showering them with glass. Jim covered his partner with his own body not a moment too soon. A second bolt of energy shot through the window, striking the lamp, exploding it in a ball of golden sparks, plunging the room into darkness. As if that was the Quickening storm's dying gasp, silence descended on the shell-shocked pair, broken only by the suddenly loud sobs of the guide. Jim held him tightly, brushing the glass off him with one hand, while the other tangled in his hair, pressing the distraught man against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Chief, I'm sorry. I didn't know she was there. I'm sorry... ." 

Slowly quieting, Blair leaned against his soulmate, absorbing his strength, trying to pull himself together. Unbidden, Dee's words came to mind, "Believe me, you would know it if he were dead. It would hurt like nothing you've ever felt in your life." He was so startled he nearly forgot to breathe, and even Ellison noticed his shock. 

"Blair, you okay?" he asked.

Closing his eyes, Blair turned his sight inward, searching his heart for the answer. His eyes snapped open and he jumped to his feet, shaking himself like a wolf, glass shards flying everywhere. "She's alive!" he yelled, and ran for the stairs, his headlong flight only slowed by the blackness into which he raced. 

Getting slowly to his feet, Jim followed him down the stairs and across the rocky ground to the guardrail at the edge of the cliff. Blair was leaning as far over it as he could without falling. Coming up behind him, Jim grabbed his arm. "What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

The younger man looked back at him. "Dee's down there. Can you see her, Jim?" 

The detective moved no closer to the edge. "She's gone, Blair," he said gently. "No one could have survived that fall, let alone that freak electrical storm. The best thing to do is get search and rescue out here."

Blair shook his head. "No, she's alive," he said fiercely. "Would you just do me a favor and look, man?" 

Sighing, Jim stepped up to the rail and leaned over, his partner's grip on his belt anchoring him. Even with his Sentinel sight, the jagged rocks were pretty dark. But there was something that seemed out of place, a gleam of metal to the left of where they were standing. He moved a couple feet in that direction, and leaned over again. This time he saw her mangled body, still clutching her sword, wedged between two giant rocks at the bottom of the 100-foot drop. As he watched, a huge wave broke over her, the sea trying to claim her as its own. He stepped back from the edge, turning to face Blair. "Her body's down there on the rocks, but it won't be for long the way the tide is coming in. I'm sorry, Chief, she's dead; I don't hear a heartbeat. I know she was your friend, and she risked her life to save me, but-- "

"I'm going down there," Blair announced.

"What!? Chief, you're crazy! Just let me call Simon and we'll get a team out here. There's no need for you to risk your life too!"

That was the wrong thing to say. Blair's eyes burned holes in Jim. "I would do it for you," he said dangerously.

"Yes, but that's different-- " Jim started. 

"No," Blair answered him softly, "it's exactly the same." Turning his back on the sentinel, he headed toward the lighthouse. He returned a few minutes later, a long coil of rope over his shoulder, and a heavy-duty flashlight in his hand. He began turning the end of the rope into a harness while Jim tried in vain to talk him out of it.

"Blair, look, I know you're grieving, but this is too dangerous! You could be killed too, and I'm sure that's not what Diandra would have wanted. If you're determined to do this, at least let me go. "

The offer was tempting, but he knew this was something he had to do himself. "No, you're injured. I'm not going to risk you getting hurt any worse." The hard expression on his face told Jim any further argument was useless.

"All right, at least give me your cell phone, let me call Simon."

Tossing him the phone, Blair fastened the rope to the sturdy fence post. Stepping over the guardrail, he looked down. "At least I can't see the bottom," he thought. In that moment, his fear of heights came rushing back to him, and he thought he was going to be sick. "I can do this," he told himself, "I can do this. Trust in myself, that's what Dee's always telling me." Tucking the flashlight in his jacket, he stepped off into space.

The first few hops were rough, then Blair got into the rhythm, and rappelled quickly to the bottom of the cliff, thanking the fates for Janet, one of his old girlfriends, who had tried to interest him in rock climbing by taking him to one of those indoor climbing places. He'd been a natural at it, but it had always scared him to death. At least the skills were coming in handy, he thought, as his sneakers slipped on the wet rocks.

"I made it to the bottom, Jim," he called up to the sentinel, knowing his partner was watching. He felt a tug on the rope, and knew Jim had heard him. Removing his make-shift harness, and turning on the flashlight, he began to carefully pick his way out to where Dee lay, only her legs and one hand visible to him. 

What if he was wrong? What if she was dead? He'd never even questioned her when she'd told him she was immortal, he'd known in his heart she was telling the truth, he hadn't asked for further proof. And Joe, he believed in Immortals, and Adam or Methos or whatever his name was, he was obviously something even if it only was obnoxious. His thoughts distracting him, Blair was caught unawares by the wave of cold water that crashed into him. He grabbed onto a jagged outcropping for support, and barely managed to keep from falling. Now he was cold and wet, and he'd lost the flashlight.

Blinking the salt water out of his eyes, he started forward again, finally reaching Diandra's side. Her body was half on the rocks, half in the water. Grasping her cold, lifeless hand, he started to pull her free of the rocks, praying that the Quickening he'd witnessed had been Kendall's not hers. Her torso lifted from the sea, water cascading from her dark hair, and he let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Kneeling on the wet stone beside her, he cradled her in his arms, her head leaning against his shoulder. He wondered how long it would take for her to come back; she hadn't been able to explain that part of Immortality to him very well. He felt for the pulse at her throat just as her body spasmed in his arms. Her eyes flew open, and she tried to take a breath. Gagging, she threw up seawater, Blair holding her until the heaving passed. Finally she relaxed against him, drawing in great lungfuls of air. 

"Oh, goddess, Lobo, I hate drowning... ." she whispered, her voice raspy and tired.

A large wave struck the rocks, drenching them with spray. "Can you stand?" Blair asked. "We've got to get out of here, the tide's coming in."

Nodding, she let him help her to her feet. Glancing around, she found her sword where she had dropped it when she came back to life. Picking it up, she started to follow him back toward the cliff, then realized it made more sense for her to take the lead, since she could see where she was going. Once they reached the base of the cliff, she stared upwards, calculating the best way to scale it. Her night vision picked out a way up, there were plenty of hand and footholds, but it wouldn't be easy, especially for Blair, who would be working blind. Water slapped at her calves, and she realized that they would run out of time very quickly if they didn't get moving. 

"Ellison," she called up to the detective, who she could see leaning over the railing, watching them. "Can you support Blair with the line as we climb?" 

"Yeah," he answered back, pushing the fact he was talking to a dead woman who was also a sentinel to the back of his mind. She and Blair had a lot of explaining to do, but now was not the time. "What about you?"

"I'll be fine; I can see a way up, and a fall won't kill me," she said with a grim smile. 

"Okay, let me know when you're ready." Ellison disappeared from view.

Dee turned to Blair, who was huddled against the cliff face, shivering violently from the cold. "Hey, Lobo," she said softly, stepping in close and pulling him into her arms. "How are you doing, besides freezing?"

"Ff-fine," he replied, his teeth chattering. "I was so scared, Dee. I was--"

"I know, honey, I know," she replied. "We'll have plenty of time to talk about that later, and your partner is going to want an explanation. Right now we need to get up top." Helping him back into the rope harness, she explained her plan. "First of all, you get to carry my sword." Stripping off her shredded shirt, she fashioned it into a carrying strap, tying one end around the hilt of the katana and the other end midway down the blade. Slipping the strap diagonally over his shoulder, she adjusted it until it fit snug against his back. "Now, " she said, turning toward the cliff face, "put your arms around my neck."

Blair stared at her. "No way, there's no way you can carry me all the way to the top!"

Looking back at him over her shoulder, she said, "I won't be. Ellison will be taking a lot of your weight off me with the line, but he's not strong enough to take all of it, and we don't have time for you to wait down here while I climb to the top alone."

Seeing the logic in her words, Blair did as he was told, wrapping his arms around her neck, feeling her lift him off his feet, shifting his weight so most of it was between her shoulders and her hips. The rope tightened as Jim put pressure on his end, and Dee began to climb. 

It was slow going, and Blair closed his eyes, burying his face in her shoulder, trying to keep back the vertigo that threatened to overwhelm him. He had confidence in her, he really did, but each time he opened his eyes, he caught glimpses of the foaming, churning water below. "Talk to me, Lobo," Dee said, sensing his distress. All she needed was for him to panic and his grip on her turn into a stranglehold. 

"Uh, okay," he said, trying to come up with a topic of conversation. "Are all Quickenings like that?" he asked.

Grinning, she pulled them up another foot. Always the scientist, she thought. "Pretty much, some are stronger than others. That was kind of a mid-strength one. Kendall wasn't old, but he'd taken some powerful Quickenings." She wondered what Ellison would be making of this conversation. It would all come out eventually, she supposed.

"Does it hurt?" Blair asked.

"It's pure masochism. The most intense pain and the most intense pleasure at the same time. Some of us get addicted to the rush; it's why not too many of us are drug addicts. Nothing can beat the high of a Quickening. I find I have a lot of excess energy afterwards, and I have to burn it off, either with a workout, or-- " She hesitated, aware of a third pair of ears. "Or with other physical activities," she finished. 

"Does rock climbing carrying a wet anthropologist qualify as an other physical activity?" Blair asked, a hint of humor in his voice.

Dee smiled again, glad his mind was no longer on his predicament. "Yes, though not the preferred activity I'd like to be engaged in with a certain anthropologist right now."

"Oh," Blair said, trying not to wiggle with delight at the mental images that conjured up. "So how did you do it?" 

"Kendall?" she asked. At his quiet "yeah", she answered him. "When we went over the side, my sword was between us, the blade at shoulder height. I basically just shoved it through on the way down." She suppressed a shudder. 

Blair couldn't contain his. "I'm sorry I asked. That was too much information."

"Not the most elegant of moves, but it got the job done. I've not taken too many Quickenings while I was dying, either. Not the most pleasant way to do it." Dee's fingers finally grasped the top of the cliff. "This is your stop, Lobo. Climb up over me." Once he had done so, she boosted herself over the edge, then joined Blair and Jim on the other side of the guardrail. 

"Simon's on his way," Jim said, ignoring the irritated look that announcement got him from Dee.

Taking her sword from Blair, she said, "I'm going after the Cherokee. Lobo, you take Jim inside. He's bleeding again." At her words, Jim and Blair both looked down to see she was right. Blood was seeping through Jim's shirt. As she trotted off in the direction of her truck, she could hear sirens barreling down the drive to the lighthouse. She would have to set Jim straight on a few rules regarding what to do after an Immortal battle. Number one on the list: don't call the cops.

"Does she always have to be in charge?" Jim muttered under his breath, as he let Blair help him back to the lighthouse. His side was really beginning to hurt now. He suspected he'd reopened the wound hauling Blair up. 

Blair looked at Jim, a little stunned by his words. He'd never considered Dee as being dictatorial, but now that he thought about it, she had seemed quite the warrior when face to face with Jim once again. "I think you bring that out in her," he said. "Two Alphas in the same company make things a little tense. She's not doing it deliberately."

Jim just grunted noncommittally. "Damn it," he said when they reached the lighthouse entrance. Kendall's partners in crime were gone.

"It doesn't matter, Jim," Blair told him. "You're safe; that's what counts." He hugged the larger man, being careful of his injury.

"You know you have a lot of explaining to do, Sandburg. A lot," Jim said sternly, before turning to face his captain, who had just climbed out of his car, several squad cars and an ambulance pulling up behind him.

Captain Banks looked slowly from his best detective to his anthropologist partner. "Sandburg!" he finally barked. "I thought we agreed that we would share information!"

Blair flushed and began to stammer. "Uh, sorry, Captain. It's just that... that... "

"That we thought it prudent to check out the information ourselves before pulling you away from your leads," came Diandra's calm voice from behind Banks. She stepped into the group, her trench-coat hiding her torn, bloody, water-soaked clothes. "While surveying the area, a situation presented itself in which we were able to rescue Ellison."

Banks looked from the cool and collected woman to the wet and shivering Sandburg. "We being?"

"Blair and I," she said, her tone daring him to dispute her.

Simon was in no mood to tangle with her tonight. "So where's Kendall?" he asked.

The trio looked at each other, but it was Ellison who spoke first. "He's dead, sir. He fell from the top of the lighthouse. Sandburg went down the cliff looking for him, but couldn't find him." Blair smiled inside. Trust Jim to explain away the complex with the fewest amount of words.

Diandra spoke again. "Captain Banks, I know you have to take statements from all of us, but Detective Ellison needs to go to the hospital."

Simon took at another look at Jim, and this time he saw the bloodstained clothes and grey complexion. "All right, go. I'll talk to all of you in the morning." He gestured to the paramedics, and they swarmed on Jim, leading him away to the ambulance. 

Blair shot a glance at Dee, and she jerked her head in Jim's direction. He ran after him, stopping outside the rear door of the ambulance. Jim was seated on the gurney inside, trying not to jump out of his skin as they removed the makeshift bandage. "Jim," Blair said, "I'm gonna ride with you, if that's okay."

"Sure," Jim replied, then he looked past Blair to where Dee leaned against the hood of her Cherokee. Her face was unnaturally white, and as he watched, she started to slide down the truck, but caught herself. "Chief," he said, "Why don't you go with Diandra? There really isn't much room in here."

Blair paused with his hand on the side of the door. "Okay, Jim," he replied, a little stung by his partner's words. Turning around, he headed for Dee's Jeep, just in time to catch her as she finally did collapse. 

"I'm okay, Lobo," she reassured him. "Just a little wobbly. A couple days sleep, and I'll be fine." She gave him a smile that was more of a grimace. Blair helped her into the passenger seat, then looked toward his partner. Jim nodded at him, then they closed the ambulance doors. Climbing in the driver's side, Blair adjusted the seat, then started the engine and headed for the hospital.

*****

At three o'clock in the morning, the hospital emergency room was almost deserted. Simon Banks paused in the entranceway, his quick glance taking in the sole attendant at the admitting desk, and the two people sprawled across several chairs. Sandburg must have sweet-talked some nurse out of some dry clothes, because both he and Diandra Pallas were wearing scrubs. The police observer was seated in a chair, his head leaning against the wall behind him, his eyes closed. Diandra was sprawled across the three chairs next to him, her head pillowed on her folded coat, which rested in Blair's lap. His arm encircled her protectively, and they looked for all the world like a couple of sweethearts asleep in front of the TV. As if Sandburg and Ellison weren't enough trouble already, Simon thought. Blair had to drag another sentinel into the mix, a female sentinel he was obviously very attracted to. Banks wondered if he could get his vacation early this year. He didn't want to be around for the fallout when Mt. Ellison blew.

Sighing, he crossed the room to the nurse's station, and inquired about Jim. At the mention of the detective's name, Blair opened his eyes. "Hey, Simon," he said. "Any news? Did you find Kendall's body?"

Banks shook his head. "No, search and rescue is still looking." He had stayed quite a while at the crime scene, trying to make sense of it all. It certainly hadn't happened the way Jim had described. Sure, maybe the railing had given way, but not before someone bled all over the catwalk. And the destruction! The door to what must have been Jim's prison was literally blown off its hinges. The lens room looked like a tornado had hit it, windows broken, glass everywhere. Not to mention the fact that the entire lighthouse's electrical system had been cooked. That information he had gotten from a Coast Guard engineer, who had been frantically trying to get the lighthouse running before some ship ventured too close to shore.

The nurse, who had gone to check on Jim, returned. "Dr. Parker decided to keep Detective Ellison overnight. He's lost a lot of blood, and the doctor wants to give him a couple pints before letting him go. There's also a good possibility of infection with such a bad injury. He's been taken upstairs to room 312. You can go see him but only for a couple minutes."

Thanking her, Simon turned back to Sandburg, who was gently shaking Diandra awake. "Hey, Dee, wake up."

Yawning, and stretching slowly, Dee sat up. Brushing her tangled hair out of her face, she said, "Hmm, what's up?"

"They're keeping Jim until tomorrow. I'm going to run up and see him. You wanna come?" Blair rubbed the tired Immortal's shoulders.

Dee yawned again. "No, that's okay. I'll just wait down here for you."

"Are you sure?" Blair asked. "I know you're really tired, Dee. Maybe Simon can take you home." He shot a pleading look at the tall man.

"No, no, I'll be fine," she said. "Go see your partner. I'll be here when you get back." Nodding, Blair kissed her cheek, then headed for the elevators.

Simon thought about following him, but decided he could wait and see Jim in the morning. Still, he would stick around and see if Dr. Pallas needed a ride. Picking up a magazine, he took a seat across from her. She gazed at him for a moment, then refolded her coat, and lay down again, quickly falling back asleep.

She didn't know how much later it was when she awoke, but Captain Banks was no longer in the waiting room. She sat up, trying to figure out what had woken her. Her chest hurt, she realized, and she rubbed her hand over her heart. The pain came again, and she realized it was not so much physical, as it was emotional. She turned up her hearing, searching for Blair's heartbeat. When she found it, it was racing out of control, and the tightness around her heart increased. Angry words reached her ears now, and she was on her feet, moving for the stairs, responding to the Champion's strongest instinct: protect the Companion.

*****

Jim moved restlessly in the hospital bed, trying to find a position that wouldn't irritate his side. The possibility of finding one was highly unlikely. He could feel every one of the 113 stitches the doctor had used to close the long cut, each one itching and pulling with its own unique sensation. The local anesthetic he'd been given wasn't doing a damn thing, and his attempt to turn down the touch dial met with only partial success. If Sandburg were here, he knew he'd have no trouble controlling the pain, but Blair was with her.

He'd had a lot of time to think during the two hours he'd spent lying on that table in the emergency room, listening to the two of them just outside. They hadn't said much, they hadn't needed to. He couldn't help but hear how their own bodies betrayed them, their hearts beating in slow synchronous rhythm. He could hear when Sandburg's fingers slid through her hair, could hear her little sighs of pleasure as she snuggled closer to his guide. 

Part of Jim felt a burst of satisfaction at the knowledge that he'd been right, that she was a trouble-making bitch, but that information had come too late to help him. His guide, his guide was with her now. How could he have been so blind? All the signs had been there, his instant dislike of Diandra, his partner's fascination with her... And Sandburg, how could Sandburg have done this to him again? Blair knew how much his relationship with Alex Barnes had bothered him. Why, why would he work with another sentinel behind Jim's back again? Jim swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. That's what hurt most of all, the feeling that Sandburg had betrayed him yet again. No! He wasn't going to feel sorry for himself! Shaking his head, Jim forced the heartache back, squeezing and twisting and transforming it into something he could use: Rage. When he got out of here, when he was back on his feet, he would kill her. He didn't know how he would manage that with a woman who was able to come back from the dead, but he would find a way. And when she was gone, he would go after Sandburg.

Blair chose that moment to stick his head inside the hospital room. "Hi, Jim, how are you doing?"

Jim's eyes were flat and cold as they gazed at the younger man. "You smell like her," he growled.

Confusion flashed on Blair's face for a moment, then he chose to make light of Jim's comment. "Yeah, well, she did carry me up that cliff. Can't get much closer than that. I smell a lot like dirty seawater too." He gave his partner a grin.

"How long, Sandburg, how long?" was Jim's only response.

"Is it just me, or is it suddenly cold in here?" Blair said, feeling icy fingers tightening around his heart.

"HOW LONG! Or were you ever planning to tell me she is a sentinel?" Jim roared.

"Jim, man, just chill out. It's not like I'm trying to hide anything from you--" Blair tried to explain, but Jim cut him off.

"How stupid do you think I am? I may be a little slow, but I get the picture. All those weeks of running with her, of being too busy to do things with me? I thought maybe you were finally getting your act together, knuckling down and finishing that paper of yours. All that time, all that time I ignored the evidence I saw with my own eyes, your sudden interest in her, you coming home smelling of her."

Jim continued to rant, as Blair felt the walls closing in. He couldn't breathe, he had to get out of there, but his feet were glued to the floor. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to sit down with Jim, and Dee, and talk this over. Everything was supposed to be okay... .Tears blurred his eyes, and he blinked to try and clear them just as Jim said, "How long have you been screwing her?"

Blair covered his mouth with his hand, knowing he was going to be sick. Then she was there. He didn't need to turn to see her in the doorway; he felt her presence behind him like a furnace blast against his back. When he did look, she was a vision from a dream, a dark avenging angel in surgical scrubs, blue eyes glowing with an inner, raging fire.

The first words out of her mouth were not anything Jim or Blair could understand, but they got the idea. Her hand raised, index finger pointed accusingly at Jim, she repeated her comments in English. "You are a disgrace to our kind. The Companion is sacred; he is our reason for being; we exist to protect him. What you have done is unconscionable; you have intentionally harmed your Guide. What kind of Sentinel are you, that you can't feel his pain? I could hear him calling from three floors and the other side of the building away! You are in the same room with him, and yet can't feel his distress?" She shook her head, then looked at Blair. He took that as his cue to leave, exiting the room and scurrying down the hallway, not knowing where he was going, only that he needed to be away from there.

Stunned, Jim simply stared at her, his senses overwhelmed by the energy he could feel pouring off of her. Sentinel or not, whatever she was, it wasn't human. He turned his attention back to her words, as she spoke again. "I have no doubt Blair will forgive you for the things you said; it is in his nature. I will not. You have belittled him and undermined his self-confidence and judgment for the last time. You hurt him again, I will tear your throat out." With that warning, she left the room, leaving Jim to wonder exactly what had just happened.

Diandra followed the frantic flight of the guide easily, tracking him to the parking lot, where he leaned against the side of the Cherokee, arms wrapped tight around himself, head bowed. She approached him slowly, feeling his heartache as her own, longing to pull him into her arms and comfort him, to take away his pain.

His head lifted as she stopped a few feet away from him. His face was a mask of agony, his eyes wet with tears he would not allow to fall. He took half a step toward her, then Jim's words rang in his head. "You smell like her!" Silently, he turned his back to her offer of solace, feeling his heart break a little more, and climbed mechanically into the truck when she unlocked the door.

The ride to the loft was silent, as was the trip up in the elevator, and the short walk down the hallway. Neither said a word as they unlocked their doors, and went inside, though she stood in her doorway watching him until his door shut behind him. Letting out a long shuddering breath, Dee closed her own door and sagged against it, wanting to cry, wanting to scream, wanting to break something. Instead she took the bag of wet, dirty clothes that she'd somehow ended up with into the utility room and dumped them in the washer, adding soap and pressing the start button. She hung up her coat next, and removing the katana, took it into the studio and cleaned and oiled it thoroughly, not wanting the ancient weapon to rust from its exposure to salt water. Sliding it into its scabbard, she hung it on its hook on the wall. 

Turning to climb the stairs to her bedroom, she wondered how her companion was doing. She caught herself as she called him that, then realized it was true. For better or worse, she was a Champion once again, had accepted that role when she had challenged Kendall, giving her title as "Diandra of Delphi, Champion of Cascade." She snorted. How pompous was that? But it was true, and she couldn't see it changing anytime in the near future. Oh, goddess, Blair! She hadn't meant to choose him as her Companion, it had just happened. She remembered that afternoon, when she had bonded with him, shared her Quickening with him, and made him part of her. They would never have found the jaguar in the spirit world if she hadn't, but she regretted it if it brought Blair pain. Though as she thought about it, she realized the fates had led her along a path from which no other trails diverged. She could think of nothing she could have done to prevent what had happened, with the exception of her having never come to Cascade in the first place, and that would have meant Blair's death the night they'd met. No, there had been no other choice.

Reaching out with her hearing, she listened to Blair's muffled sobs from across the hall, each one a knife through her heart. Damn Ellison! Damn him! The heavy workout bag hung near the stairs, and she punched it as hard as she could, once, twice, and then she was a blur of motion, blows and kicks striking the bag in rapid succession. She didn't know how long she kept it up, but it was long enough for her to finally burn up the last of the adrenaline she had been running on ever since the scene at the hospital. Tears streaming down her face, she collapsed on the floor, sobs wracking her tired body.

Gentle hands lifted her into a sitting position, and strong arms cradled her against a warm chest. One hand stroked her hair tenderly, and her companion's voice whispered over and over, "I'm sorry, Dee, I'm sorry." 

When she finally ran out of tears, she gazed up into Blair's face, taking in the red, swollen eyes, and blotchy complexion that must be a match for hers. "No, I'm sorry," she said. "If I'd known this would happen, if I'd known he would hurt you, I would have done things differently, I don't know how, but I would have."

Blair shook his head. "It'll be okay, Dee. Jim and I, we'll work things out, we always have. He just needs some time to cool off. When he's ready, he'll listen to me."

Dee nodded, trusting his judgment on this. He knew Ellison far better than she did. With an effort, she got to her feet. Sniffing, she said, "I need a shower, and then about a week in bed. Thanks for coming to check on me, Lobo. Good night."

Blair made no move toward the door, watching his bare toe trace a knot in the wood floor. "Dee," he said slowly, "I came over because, well, because I knew something was wrong. The same way you knew at the hospital that I was in pain." He looked up at her, his blue eyes full of wonder, and something else. "Tonight, out there at the lighthouse, you said something to me, and then took off before I could answer you." He took a deep breath, gathering all his courage. "I love you, Dee," he said softly, "and the things Jim said to me tonight, well, they made me feel there was something wrong with that, that I was wrong for loving you. And I realized, when I felt your pain, when I felt the connection between us, that Jim was the one who was wrong. Love is beautiful, love is strong, love can only make things better, not worse."

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. "Oh, Lobo, I am so lucky, so blessed to have you in my life." She pulled back, leaning her forehead against his, seeing the love shining in his eyes. He kissed her tenderly, then taking her hand, he led her upstairs.

*****

Dee awoke first the next morning, the bright sun shining through the skylight over her bed having awakened her. Yawning, she stretched, feeling the fading ache in her muscles. Immortality had its advantages, but even it couldn't fully compensate for the abuse she'd put her body through yesterday. It would probably be a couple days before she was back to full strength. Rolling onto her side, she regarded her bedmate warmly. Blair had been through just as much stress as she had, if not more, but his face, relaxed in sleep, showed no signs of it.

She trailed one finger lightly across his cheek, brushing a chestnut curl to the side, feeling the rough texture of beard stubble against her skin. She shivered slightly, her heightened sense of touch making even the most innocent of gestures arousing. Bending her head down, she kissed his shoulder gently, marveling at the beauty that was Blair Sandburg, student, anthropologist, police observer, guide, companion, lover, warrior. He was truly a warrior now, having been tested in battle the night before, and passing with flying colors, never faltering, never hesitating in the brief battle between himself and Kendall's two henchmen. She had helped, a little, by charging through them, knocking them out of her way, but he had done the rest, following her teaching to the letter, using his skills to disable them. It had given her the time she needed to blast open the door to the room Ellison was being held in, and still engage Kendall before he reached the bottom of the lighthouse stairs.

The battle had been swift and furious; Kendall was an expert swordsman, and the tight stairs and even tighter catwalk had given him an advantage, his rapier finding more room to work in than her longer katana. He'd managed to get inside her guard and slash a deep gash from her shoulder to her hip, and she had staggered under the sudden overload of pain receptors. A misstep had sent her sprawling on her back, her reflexes bringing her sword up barely in time to block his downward thrust. She had zoned then, unable to deal with the conflicting messages her senses were sending her. Blair must have sensed the moment she'd been hurt, there was no other explanation for his arrival on the scene at the crucial moment. His calm words had cut through her confusion, giving her a support to cling to as she came back to herself, back to the duel. She would have won the fight, of that she had no doubt, if Ellison had not interfered. She shook her head slightly, the ends of her dark hair brushing Blair's chest. He stirred, but did not waken, his body edging closer to hers, drawn by her warmth, or some deeper connection.

She couldn't put her finger on the exact instant when their relationship had changed, when they had shifted from friends and lovers to Champion and Companion, but it had been in the last 24 hours, not going on for weeks, as Ellison had suspected. "Ah, Ellison," she said softly, "what am I going to do about you?" She feared her words last night had not gotten through to him, that he did not understand the grievousness of his actions. To harm a Companion... the mere thought was anathema to her. Lydia and she had not always seen eye to eye; a champion and companion shared one soul, but that did not mean they were of like minds. Lydia and Diandra had both been strong personalities, and they had often clashed over strategy or policy, but never had they doubted the bond between them. Just as Blair never doubted his connection to Jim. Why then couldn't Ellison see that her relationship with Blair was no threat to him? Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he had met Blair so late in life, that they had not been bound together since their youth; the connection was not as firmly ingrained as it had been between herself and Lydia. Or maybe it was something in Ellison's own emotional makeup. Blair had mentioned something about Jim's cold and unfeeling father, something she and Lydia had never known; they had had fairly uneventful childhoods for the times in which they lived.

Dee felt a smile crossing her lips, as she thought of her fallen companion, thinking back to the spirit walk she and Blair had taken yesterday. It had been a shock, seeing her companion's spirit guide, the red falcon. She had walked the nether world many times since her companion had been killed, and she had never seen her... though there had been that time in March, when she had helped drive the Manitou from her student. She had felt her presence then, but had chalked it up to Dana's resemblance to Lydia. But if she had been wrong, then Lydia was still with her, if only in spirit. First chance she got, she would walk the other world again and talk to her, ask her advice on what to do about Ellison.

But now her first priority was Blair. She was loathe to wake him, he needed the rest, but this new day would only bring a myriad of questions for them, and they had better be prepared. She knew Blair would not say anything to betray her, expose her immortality, but Ellison, he was another story. She wondered how far he would go for revenge. Her fingers traced idle patterns on Blair's chest as she pondered the problem. 

Something tickling him woke Blair. Opening his eyes, he gazed up into the smiling face of his lover. Seeing he was awake, she leaned over and kissed him, her lips warm against his own. As they parted, for the second day in a row he mused upon this miracle, that such a wise, wonderful, beautiful woman would want him for her own. Her fingers continued moving across his chest, and he realized she was not subjecting him to aimless torture, she was writing something. "What are you doing?" he finally asked, unable to decipher her language of touch.

Giving him another smile, she said, "Telling you what I feel for you, in all the ways I know how." Her fingers moved again, and she whispered the words to him. "Te amo, te adoro, te quiero. I love you, I adore you, I want you... ." Her voice trailed off as he kissed her, feeling his arms go around her, pulling her close, his hands instinctively knowing where she needed to be touched. With a low moan of pleasure, she gave herself over to him.

*****

When they finally rolled out of bed, it was almost 11 am. They were both in her kitchen, she in her robe, and Blair in a pair of boxers, feeding each other breakfast, when there was a knock at the door. Blair went to get it.

He was quite surprised to find Captain Banks standing there, but not half as surprised as Simon was to find Blair bare-chested and barefoot answering the door. "Uh, Captain, what brings you here so early?" Blair stammered.

"Early for you, maybe, but I haven't been to bed." He entered the apartment, as Dee came out of the kitchen. Simon took in her scantily clad appearance. Clearing his throat, he said, "The Coast Guard fished Evan Kendall's body out of the cove about 7 a.m. this morning. Unfortunately, he was missing an important part of his anatomy." He paused for effect, glancing from her expressionless face to Blair's worried one. "His head."

Neither Dee nor Blair appeared shocked by this turn of events, and Simon realized they had both known this fact. Reaching inside his coat pocket, he produced a piece of paper. "Diandra Pallas, I have a warrant for your arrest for the murder of Evan Kendall."


	7. Chapter 7

"Simon! You have got to be kidding!" Blair burst out. "Dee didn't murder Kendall; she saved Jim's life! You can't arrest her!"

Banks looked at the upset young man, and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sandburg, the ME says Kendall's head was cut off with a sharp object, like a sword. I only know one person at that scene last night who is experienced in the use of swords."

Dee stepped forward, her arm encircling Blair's shoulders. "It's okay, Lobo, Captain Banks is just doing his job. Tell you what, do me a big favor, and call Joe while I go change. It's speed dial 5 on the phone in the kitchen. Is that all right with you, Captain?"

Banks hesitated, not wanting to let her out of his sight. There was another knock on the door. "That must be my backup," he said, opening the door. Megan Connor stood there, her hand raised to knock again.

"I got your message, Captain," she said, "but why did you want to meet here?" Simon stepped back, allowing her to enter. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of Blair and Dee. "Sandy? What's going on?"

Blair shook his head. "Ask Simon," he said.

"Dr. Pallas is under arrest, Connor. Would you escort her upstairs so she can change her clothes?" With a nod, Megan followed Dee up the stairs. 

Blair walked back into the kitchen, and picked up the phone, hitting the speed dial. It rang three times, then Dawson's gravelly voice said, "Joe's."

Feeling a sudden sense of relief at that single word, Blair said, "Joe, this is Blair Sandburg."

"Blair! Is Dee all right? Judy reported in, said there was a Quickening last night, but she couldn't get close enough to tell who the winner was.-- " The older man's anxiety came over the wire loud and clear.

"She's fine, Joe, just fine," he reassured him. "Only we have a little problem. She's just been arrested for Kendall's death. You don't happen to know a lawyer who specializes in this kind of thing, do you?"

Joe hesitated, then said, "No, but I know a couple other people who can help. It may take them a few hours to get to Cascade. You tell Dee to hold on, okay?"

Blair's fingers tightened on the receiver. "Dee's fine, Joe. I'm the one who's a basket case."

"Blair, it's going to be okay. She won't go to jail, not for killing scum like Kendall. If worst comes to worst, we can always arrange an 'accident' for her."

"Somehow, Joe, that doesn't make me feel much better."

"Just tell her help is on the way, " Joe said, then hung up.

Blair set the phone down, then walked back out to the living room. Simon had moved to the studio, and was studying the various swords on display. "She know how to use all of these?" he asked Blair as he came to stand beside him.

"Yes," Blair said, seeing no reason not to tell the truth. "Simon, you can't do this to her. She didn't murder anyone. If anything, it was self-defense."

"That's not the way Jim tells it," Simon replied quietly. "He says she went there with a sword. She probably had every intention of killing Kendall, just like she did those women in DC."

Blair ran his hand through his hair in frustration. What in the hell was Jim doing? He knew there was no way the truth would stand up in court. Hell, no one would believe it. Was Jim willing to lie to get back at her? "This sucks, man, this really sucks." He left the police captain and headed across the hall to change his clothes. If Dee was going to be arrested, he was at least going to be there for her every step of the way.

True to his word, Blair was with Dee the whole time. He rode with her to the station, stayed with her through booking, mug shots and fingerprinting. He was at her side when she was finally taken upstairs to Major Crimes for questioning. Every head in the bullpen turned as Diandra came through the door, her warrior's bearing and fire undimmed by the handcuffs she wore. Word had already reached the unit regarding Blair's relationship with the suspect, and Dee's sentinel hearing picked up various comments about her physical attributes, and how Blair was a lucky dog. 

She could see Ellison waiting in Captain Banks office, and before she could stop him, Blair went for him. She started after him, but Megan wrestled her into a chair. "Nope, you stay here," the Aussie told her, planting herself between the Immortal and the door.

Flying into Simon's office, Blair slammed the door shut behind him, rattling the glass. "How could you! How could you do this Jim! She's done nothing to you, nothing! She saved my life; she saved your life! If it hadn't been for her, you would be dead!"

Ellison stared at the angry guide, his jaw clenching and unclenching in an effort to control himself. "It's out of my hands, Chief. Simon came to me this morning, asked me if Diandra had a sword on her last night. I couldn't lie to him, Blair, I told him the truth. He would have figured it out anyway, it was so obvious. What he did with that information is not my fault."

Blair hesitated, a furrow creasing his brow. "So all you told him was she had a sword?"

The detective nodded. "I couldn't tell him anything else, Chief, he never would have believed me if I told the whole story. Hell, I don't even know the whole story. All I know is she should be dead right now, not sitting there in the bullpen looking like some goddess. What in the hell is she?"

The younger man shook his head. "I can't tell you, Jim. I want to man, I want to, because I know it would make everything okay between us, but I can't."

Jim sighed. The anger he'd felt the night before had faded in the wake of Diandra's wrath, and now all he felt was resignation. If his guide chose to go with her, there was nothing he could do to stop him. Hell, she could take better care of him than he could, she had proven that last night. "Blair, look, I'm sorry about last night. I said some really ugly things to you, things I wish I could take back."

"It's okay, Jim," Blair said, visibly relaxing. "I knew you would cool off, and everything would be okay."

"Yeah, well, I shouldn't have lost my temper," Jim answered quietly. "I seem to be doing that a lot around you lately."

"Dee has a theory about that. She thinks you knew her senses were returning before she did, and that threw your Sentinel instincts into overdrive," Blair said. "I don't have time to explain everything to you now, and Dee tells the story way better than I do anyway. We weren't trying to hide anything from you; everything just happened at once, her senses, and Kendall, and you getting kidnapped."

Jim dreaded asking the next question, but he knew he had to. "And your relationship with her? Are you her guide?"

Blair chewed the inside of his lip for a long moment before answering, his eyes going to Dee's through the window of Simon's office. She nodded, and he opened his mouth to speak, but saw the look of concentration on Jim's face, and knew he was listening to Dee.

In a voice pitched for sentinel ears, and her hand covering her mouth, Dee spoke. "Detective Ellison, Blair is my companion, yes. I have no doubt, however, that that is only temporary. I believe my senses returned with the threat of Kendall. I have faith that they will return to dormancy now that Kendall is dead. I know what it's like to lose a guide, Ellison. I would not willingly wish that on anyone."

"What? What did she say, Jim?" Blair asked, as the sentinel returned his attention to his partner.

"She said she thinks her heightened senses are only temporary." 

Simon entering the office interrupted any further discussion. "You're not talking about what happened last night are you? Because both of you are witnesses, and I don't want you comparing notes. It's going to be difficult enough making a case against her without you two trying to couch things in her favor." He gave both of them a stern look. 

"I'll go sit with her while we wait for her lawyer," Blair said, slipping out of the office.

Jim watched him go, shaking his head slowly as he saw the guide perch on the edge of the desk next to Dee, his hands going to her shoulders, as she leaned her head against his wrist. Just watching them together was tearing him up inside. He clamped a lid firmly on his emotions. He was not going to lose it the way he did last night. Taking a seat, he tried to figure out what kind of statement he was going to give his captain.

*****

Another hour passed, and still there was no sign of the help Joe had promised. Dee had been moved to an interrogation room, and Simon had asked her a few questions, which she refused to answer. Simon then tried his questions on Blair, with the same amount of success. Frustrated, Banks returned to his office to find Jim waiting for him.

"Any luck?" he asked.

Shaking his head, Captain Banks poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down behind his desk. "It would really help if one of you told me what happened last night. Otherwise, I'll just have to make something up based on the evidence, and that's not going to look very good for Sandburg's friend."

"I told you, Simon, I was injured, and I missed most of what went on, seeing I was at the base of the lighthouse, and the action was all going on at the top."

"What about your senses? What did they pick up?"

"I heard a sword fight, sir. Clashing steel, that kind of thing."

"No one said anything?"

"No, no one said anything."

"Does the reason you and Sandburg seem to be protecting her have anything to do with her being a Sentinel?"

Jim's eyebrows shot up. "You know about that?"

Sighing, the captain leaned back in his chair. "I didn't get to where I am on my good looks alone, Ellison. When I see Sandburg and her working a crime scene the way the two of you do, I put two and two together. So if that's what you're hiding, the cat's already out of the bag."

Jim shifted uneasily in his seat. He hated lying to his friend, but how could he explain what happened? "Sir, if I could speak off the record?"

"Of course, Jim. I have a feeling I'm not going to hear the story any other way."

With that reassurance, Jim told Simon everything he knew.

*****

Diandra had been moved back to the bullpen, the interrogation room needing to be used for another suspect. Blair sat next to her, his fingers entwined with hers, watching the goings on in Captain Banks' office with interest. "What's he saying?" he asked Dee.

"Jim's telling him what happened, or what he suspects happened." She paused, then continued. "Now Simon is saying Jim must be crazy, and how in the hell does he expect that testimony to stand up in court. Jim's saying he knows it won't, and Simon's saying he's going to go with the evidence at the scene, since Jim's story won't even make a good defense."

Blair, who had perked up at the news Simon thought Jim was nuts, slumped in his seat. "This is so not good," he said. 

"No," Dee said, "it's not. A good lawyer will probably get me off, but it will take time, and mean a trial. My reputation will be ruined, and I'll have to start over again under another name in another city. It's moments like these being an Immortal really sucks." She laughed lightly as she realized Blair's vocabulary was rubbing off on her. Mid giggle, she tensed, and Blair felt her grip on his hand tighten.

"What? Dee, what's wrong?" Gazing at her face, he could see she was somewhere inside herself, then she came back to him. "Is it another Immortal?"

She nodded, a broad smile on her face. "It's a friend, a good friend." Turning in her chair, she watched the door until a petite redhead followed by a tall dark haired man entered Major Crimes. Blair's jaw dropped in surprise; the woman was the twin of the Companion he'd seen in his dream.

The man inclined his head toward her in way of greeting, and the woman gave Dee a thousand-watt smile. Then they were all business as they surveyed the bullpen. "Which one of you is Captain Banks?" the man finally asked.

Both Simon and Jim had left the office when they had noticed the arrival of the two strangers. "I am," Banks said, stepping forward. "And you are?"

"Agent Fox Mulder, FBI," the man replied, producing a badge. "This is my partner, Agent Scully. We understand you apprehended an escapee from a federal prison, one Evan Kendall." His hazel eyes looked at Banks expectantly.

"Actually," Jim said, "Kendall is in the morgue."

"And you are?" Agent Scully asked.

"Detective Jim Ellison. We spoke on the phone a month and a half ago."

She graced him with the slightest of smiles. "Ah, yes, I remember that conversation well. Did you ever find the information you were looking for?"

"Not exactly," Ellison muttered.

Mulder cleared his throat. "About Mr. Kendall, was he killed trying to resist arrest?"

"Not quite," Simon said. "He kidnapped Detective Ellison, and was killed during a rescue attempt."

Mulder shook his head and tch'd tch'd with his tongue. "Too bad. Of course, seeing as Kendall was a federal fugitive at the time of his death, I'd say the Bureau has jurisdiction in the investigation."

Scully produced a sheaf of papers from her briefcase. "These are orders from the Assistant Director of the FBI, ordering you to turn over all evidence and paperwork regarding Kendall to us. This of course, includes any suspects."

Simon knew an end run when he saw it. "Brown!" he barked. "Get me all the evidence and files in the Kendall case. Your suspect is over there, Agents." Turning on his heel, he stalked into his office, and closed the door forcefully.

Mulder stepped over to Ellison, and extended his hand. "Nice to finally meet you, Detective. Didn't take my advice, did you? Couldn't resist opening Pandora's box."

"Unfortunately not," Jim sighed. He knew Simon was angry, but in a way he was glad Diandra's friends had come through for her. It would save Sandburg and himself from making fools of themselves on the witness stand. 

Scully moved to Dee's side, giving Blair a curious glance, then examining the handcuffs on Dee. "Anyone got a key for these?" Megan moved forward and dropped the key into her hand. 

Once the cuffs were removed, Dee stood and pulled the smaller woman into an embrace. "Dana, Estrellita, it is so good to see you. I take it Joe called you?"

Scully stepped back, gazing into the other Immortal's face. "Yes, we were finishing up a case in Portland, so were able to get here fairly quickly. Mulder was really ticked when he heard you'd gotten yourself arrested. Expect a lecture."

Dee laughed, then reaching behind her, she grasped Blair's hand and pulled him up to stand beside her. "Dana Scully, I want you to meet Blair Sandburg. Blair, this is my student, Dana."

He held out his hand, and she took it, finding his grasp firm. Mulder came up at that moment, and he, too, was introduced to Blair. The two men eyed each other for a moment, current lover sizing up the former. 

Dee left them to get acquainted, and walked over to Jim's desk. "Ellison," she said, as he looked up at her. "I owe you an explanation, but not here. We have a lot to discuss, and I'd like to do it on neutral ground. You okay for a drive to Seacouver?" Her eyes flicked quickly to his injured side, then back to his face.

Jim shot a glance at Blair, who was in the midst of an animated discussion with the two FBI agents, complete with hand gestures. "If this is about who gets to be Sentinel of the Great City, I'm not up to a winner takes all fight."

Dee shook her head. "No, this about who I am, and where we go from here. Despite what I said in the heat of battle, I can't really be Cascade's Champion. That position is already filled." The corners of her lips turned up in a wistful smile, and for a brief moment, Jim caught a glimpse of the woman beneath the warrior's exterior.

"Let me go talk to Simon, and I'll be back."

An hour later, they were piled into two cars, on the way to Seacouver. Blair rode with Mulder in the FBI agent's rental car, and Dee, Dana, and Jim took Dee's Cherokee. Dee was silent for most of the drive, relying on Dana to entertain Ellison. That she did, engaging him in shoptalk, discovering that they both had their share of strange and unusual cases. Dee kept one ear tuned to the conversation in the other car, a little worried about how Blair would get along with Mulder, but her fears were unfounded. Upon finding out Blair was an anthropologist with expertise in South American cultures, Mulder had began quizzing him about the theory of the ancient Mayans as space travelers.

Once they reached Joe's they were welcomed warmly by the Watcher, who gave both Dee and Dana a hug, and shook Jim's hand firmly as he was introduced. The group took a table upstairs, giving them some privacy. After dinner, Blair and Mulder went downstairs to talk with Joe, and Scully cornered Adam at the bar, catching up on what had been happening with the older Immortal. That left Diandra alone with Jim.

She took a sip of her mineral water, wondering where to begin. Finally, she said, "I guess most of your questions can be answered with two words: I'm immortal."

Jim stared at her, his beer bottle paused a few inches from his lips. Slowly, he set it down on the table. "You're what?"

Dee sucked an ice cube out of her drink and crunched it. "I'm immortal. I can't be killed by ordinary means, like falling off the top of a lighthouse." She gave him a wry smile, "Or drowning, or being shot, or stabbed, or hit by a car. Can't even burn to death, though it hurts like hell." He continued to stare, his mind not grasping the concept. "Here, let me give you a demonstration." She picked up one of the steak knives left over from dinner, and ran it across the palm of her hand, then held it up for his inspection.

Blood oozed out of the cut, pooling in her cupped palm. As he watched, the edges of the cut pulled together, tiny blue sparks dancing back and forth across the small gap. In a few seconds, the cut was completely gone, and she wiped her hand on a napkin, then offered it to him. Examining it closely, even his sentinel sight could detect no sign of injury. "Okay," he finally said, "I'll take your word for it. But that doesn't explain your senses."

"In a way it does," she said, leaning forward in her chair, resting her elbows on the table and propping her chin on her hands. "I was a champion, or sentinel, almost three millennia ago. My companion, however, was human. She was killed in battle, and as a result of the psychic trauma, I repressed my senses for thousands of years. I'm not really sure what brought them back, but Blair's theory is as good as any. He thinks it was being around him, around a guide that did it. Personally, I lean toward the idea of fate. Do you believe in karma, Ellison?" At his shrug, she continued, "After all I've been through in my life, I find I have to. Too much of it has been one big coincidence for me to discount the idea that there isn't some cosmic force guiding it. Think of it this way, if something hadn't called me to Cascade, I never would have run into Blair, and that night two months ago he would have gone to the market and been killed."

Jim felt a cold chill run down his spine at her words. He hadn't been there, hadn't been able to protect his guide.

"He came to me in the next few days, and took me up on my offer to teach him." At Ellison's surprised look, she said, "What did you think we were doing all that time we spent together? No, don't answer that. I was teaching him martial arts." Turning in her chair, she gazed over the railing at the anthropologist, who was leaning forward in his seat, listening intently to some point Mulder was making. "He's quite the tenacious fighter, you know. Took to kick boxing like a duck to water, and staff, goddess, he beats me most of the time now." Looking up, she saw Jim's eyes were troubled. "He's still Lobo, Ellison. Learning to protect himself, learning to protect you, hasn't changed him. He made me swear not to put a sword in his hand, and I haven't. He doesn't have the killing instinct, not the way we do. I hope he never feels that rage." 

Dee turned her attention back to Blair. "Maybe we can give you a demonstration tomorrow."

Jim didn't know how he felt about that. Part of him was in favor of anything that would keep his partner safe, and part of him felt that Blair's relationship with him had brought about the loss of his innocence. Changing the subject, he said, " Why did you confront Kendall with a sword? I'm assuming he was immortal, like you."

With a small sigh, she said, "There's only one way to kill an immortal, by cutting off his head. Immortals spend a good deal of their lives training for and participating in the Game, which is one on one combat to the death. The winner gets the loser's Quickening, or life force. That was the electrical storm you witnessed when I killed Kendall." At his horrified look, she said, "It's barbaric, I know, but it's our way. Most of us try not to involve mortals in our Game, but sometimes it can't be helped, and sometimes mortals choose to involve themselves, like Joe. He's a Watcher, one who watches and records the lives of Immortals, so that when we are all gone, there is some record that we existed."

Blair's laughter floated up towards them, and Dee smiled. A glance at Ellison confirmed a smile on his face as well. "I can see that's one thing we have in common, detective. Blair is incredibly important to both of us. But he is your Guide. He pinch hit for me yesterday, and I am alive because of it. If he had not known to be there when I needed him... " She shook her head. "We would all be dead. Kendall would have taken my head and then killed the both of you. I am very glad that didn't happen." 

She toyed with her glass again, pushing the lime to the bottom and watching it float to the surface. "I would like us to be able to co-exist peacefully, detective. I know just sitting here talking to me is probably driving you crazy."

"Actually, it's not so bad," he said. "You might have hit on something with the neutral ground thing."

"Too bad we can't bottle it and take it with us." She crunched another piece of ice, knowing where the conversation had to go next, not sure how to approach it, or how Ellison would take it. "About last night, the things you said at the hospital... "

Jim cut her off. "They were inexcusable, I know. I've apologized to Blair. I just... " He couldn't voice his feelings of betrayal and inadequacy. 

"You felt Blair betrayed you, because he was helping another sentinel." Jim nodded. "Lobo could never do that to you, Jim," she said gently. "He wanted to tell you as soon as we knew my senses were back, in fact, he tried to tell you Friday night when you called him, but the connection was too bad. He figured it could wait until you got back; we had no way of knowing then about Kendall, or that he would kidnap you in trying to get his revenge on Blair. We did the best we could under the circumstances, and if that hurt you, well, I'm sorry." She took a deep breath, and smoothed the wrinkles out of her napkin. "I want you to know I would never hurt Blair, Jim. I know you've had a bad experience in the past with another sentinel. Blair told me about Alex Barnes. But if you don't know by now if you can trust me or not, then nothing I can say is going to sway you."

Jim looked into her steady blue gaze and saw no trace of deceit. He sensed that Blair was safe in her presence, and he was really all that mattered when it came down to it. "I will try to give you the benefit of the doubt," he finally said.

Nodding, she said, "That's all that I ask." The sound of the jazz trio starting up effectively put an end to the conversation. "You like jazz, Ellison?" she asked. "This group is really good."

"I'm a classic rock fan myself, but jazz is all right," he replied, just as Blair came bounding up the stairs. 

"You two get everything worked out?" he asked.

"To a certain degree," Jim said.

"We've called a truce," Dee added.

Blair came to stand behind her, his hands on the back of her chair. "You up for some dancing?" he asked her. 

"I thought you'd never ask," she said. "You going to be okay here on your own, Ellison?"

"I'm fine," Jim said, "you two go on." He watched as Blair led Dee down the stairs and onto the dance floor, feeling a distinct sense of loss as he watched them jitterbug, laughing and joking together.

Several songs later, Blair felt a tap on his shoulder. "Mind if I cut in?" Mulder asked the anthropologist. Blair glanced at Dee, and at her nod, surrendered her hand to the taller man. Mulder slid his arm around her waist, and they moved without words to the music for a few moments before he broke the silence. "I don't think we ever did this," he said.

"Dance? No, no we never did. Somehow that wasn't very high on our list of priorities," she replied wistfully.

"I always thought we'd have the time, and then-- "

"And then I was gone, running away with Dana, disappearing for five months," she said.

Mulder looked pensive for a moment, then said, "I don't think I ever thanked you for that, for taking Scully under your wing, teaching her, making sure she'd survive. So, thank you, Diandra."

Dee gave him a smile. "It's okay, Fox. I don't blame you for what happened between us. It was inevitable, I think. Much as I know you cared for me, I know your heart truly lies with Dana; I knew that the moment I saw the two of you together."

"That obvious, huh?"

"To someone who's been there, yes." She glanced across the dance floor, her eyes meeting Blair's as he danced with Dana. "I know a lot about inevitability."

Mulder's hazel eyes met her blue ones. "Are you talking about us, or about you and Blair?" he asked softly.

She quirked an eyebrow at him in surprise. "Are we that obvious?"

"I love it when you do that eyebrow thing. It reminds me of... Scully," he said with a laugh. "But yes, you are obvious. It's there in your eyes when you look at him. I can tell you're looking at him now, because your eyes are all soft and warm. And he's the same way, when he looks at you, his whole face lights up." Feeling tears well up in her eyes, Dee leaned her forehead against Mulder's shoulder. "Hey, hey, was it something I said?"

"No, no, it's not you, Fox. It's just... I haven't felt this close to someone in a long time, even closer than I felt to you, and I'm afraid it's not going to last."

Mulder tilted her chin up, seeing by her expression that she was really upset. "What? You're afraid he's going to get bored with you and leave? Not on your immortal life, Dee. You should have heard him on the way up here in the car. You were all he could talk about, all he asked me about. He's nuts about you, Dee. He's not going to treat you the way I did. He loves you."

"I know he does, I know. I love him too. I just hope my presence in his life doesn't end up hurting him."

Mulder kissed her forehead tenderly. "That's the real trick, isn't it?" he said, his tone remorseful. "One I've yet to master." The song ended then, and they separated, Mulder heading to the table, and Dee stepping outside for some air.

She stood there in the alley, leaning against the wall, wondering if she was doing the right thing. She'd kept an eye on Jim during the time she and Blair had been dancing, and had gotten the distinct impression he was not as cool with her relationship with Blair as he pretended. The last thing she wanted to do was to come between the two of them, but if Ellison couldn't get over his hang-ups about her, that would be what would happen. She slapped the flat of her hand against the brick in frustration. 

"Dee?" came the guide's soft voice from the doorway. "You okay? Mulder didn't say something to upset you, did he?"

"No, Lobo, I'm fine, just thinking." She took in the troubled expression on his face. "I'm sorry if I worried you."

Blair stepped out into the alley to stand in front of the Immortal. "You sure you're okay?" he asked. "Because when you left, all of a sudden I got butterflies in my stomach, and I know they weren't mine." He gave her a grin.

"I love you," she said suddenly, her hands cupping his face. "Don't ever forget that. No matter what happens in your life, I want you to know that you will always be incredibly loved."

"Mm, okay," he replied, confused. "I love you too." He leaned into her then, his hands planted on the wall on either side of her shoulders, his lips teasing hers with a nibbling kiss. She giggled, and he kissed her again, one hand trailing down her side and over her hip. She surprised him by hooking her leg around him, and pulling him up against her. 

"Hey! I'm all for a little lip lock, but don't you think that's going a little far?" he protested jokingly.

"Just trying to keep your interest," she said, running both hands down his back, pressing his hips against her. She kissed him hard enough to take his breath away, then released him. "Come on, let's see if this army is ready to move out. It's pretty late." Taking his hand, she led him back inside.

*****

They ended up closing the place down at Joe's and decided to spend the night at MacLeod's spare apartment. Sleeping arrangements were a little cramped, but they managed, Dee and Dana in one bedroom, Jim in the other, and Mulder and Blair on the two sofas.

Dee lay on her side of the double bed, listening to the steady even breathing of the other four people in the loft. They had fallen asleep almost immediately, and she was still awake, her mind and soul restless. Finally, she got up, and taking a blanket from the linen closet, she tiptoed through the living room, and headed for the roof. Spreading the blanket out, she lay down on her back and regarded the stars. She felt them calling to her, and, closing her eyes and concentrating on her breathing, she slipped easily into a meditative state.

Opening her eyes, she found herself in a familiar forest, dressed in the garb of an Amazon warrior. It was night, but the moon and stars lit the well traveled path, and she started walking, her long strides taking her quickly to her destination, the Temple of Artemis. Entering the empty temple, she crossed the marble floor to the altar, kneeling in front of the statue of the patron goddess of the Amazons. "Artemis," she prayed, "my Goddess, my Teacher, please show me the way I must go. Please give me a sign, let me know that this is the path you have chosen for me, to once again wear the mantle of Champion."

She remained on her knees for a long time, waiting patiently, listening to the sound of her breathing echoing through the vast chamber. Finally the flapping of great wings from behind her broke the silence, but Diandra did not lift her head, nor turn, afraid she would find her hopes dashed if she did. Soft footsteps sounded on the cold tile, but still she did not move.

"Diandra," came the gentle voice, its quiet authority still present after nearly three thousand years. "My heart, my soul, please look at me."

Slowly, slowly, she turned, her eyes already filling with tears. "Lydia... " she whispered, and then the Amazon Queen was kneeling beside her, her arms going around the warrior's shaking shoulders.

She held her for a long time, until the Immortal's sobs turned to sniffles, and she raised her tear-streaked face to hers. Lydia's small fingers brushed her cheeks, wiping away the last of her tears. "My love," she said, "it has been so long, and yet I never stopped believing you would find me again."

Diandra straightened in the other woman's arms. "After all this time, why now, why now? I've been here many times before, and you were never here."

"You had no need of your Companion then," she replied. "Now that you have once again accepted your role as Champion, I am here for you, but only in the spirit world."

Dee drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her folded hands. "Then I am still alone in the real world. How can I be a Champion, when you are here, and I am there?"

"A Champion is always a Champion, if she chooses to be. You have chosen." Lydia clasped her consort's hand. "You will find a Companion of your own."

"You know about Blair," Dee said.

The red haired queen nodded. "Yes, it was I who sent him to you. You needed him to find yourself again, and he needed you to complete his training as a Companion. But that time has passed, Diandra. It is time for you to move on, to seek out your soulmate."

"You are my soulmate," she breathed, feeling tears burning her eyes again.

Lydia hugged the other woman, leaning her cheek against her dark hair. "Ah, my heart, do not grieve for me. I will always be with you. You carry me with you, wherever you go, in here," she said, laying her hand on Diandra's heart. "But you have been blessed by the Goddess, been given the chance to use your strength and your courage to change the world, to help others, and so you have done. But you were not meant to do it alone. When the time is right, for both you and your companion, they will appear to you." With those words, she made a sweeping gesture with her hand, and Dee caught a glimpse of snowy mountain peaks and the feeling of the wind rushing past the wings of a great bird, larger and darker than her companion's spirit guide, the red falcon. As quickly as it came, the impression was gone. "When you need them, they will be there." Lydia rose to her feet, and turned as if to go.

"Wait!" Dee cried, scrambling up. "What about Blair? I know he can't be my guide, but I love him."

Reaching up, the smaller woman took the warrior's face in her hands, blue eyes meeting blue eyes in a steady gaze. "As he loves you, Diandra. But sometimes love is not enough; sometimes duty must come first." With those words, Lydia stood on tiptoe, and kissed her Champion. Diandra's arms went around her, lifting her off the floor, holding her close, drinking in all that was her Companion. When they finally parted, Lydia stepped back, and with a quick shimmer, the red falcon took to the air, circling Diandra once before winging into the starlit sky. 

Dee opened her eyes to another sky, lit by the man-made stars of street lamps. She felt the sob rising in her chest, and she let it go, tears flowing as freely in this world as they had in the other. Strong arms tightened around her, and she leaned her head on a warm shoulder, a familiar heartbeat thumping just below her ear. "It's okay," he said, "it's okay. Just let it out. I'm here, I'll take care of you." Blair pressed his lips against her hair, and rocked the distraught Immortal until she fell into a restless sleep.

*****

Blair had been asleep on the couch, when something woke him. He gazed around the room, his eyes adjusting to the gray light coming through the windows, picking out Mulder's sleeping form on the sofa opposite him. Something didn't feel right, and he rose quietly, padding first to Jim's room, finding him snoring softly, sprawled across the bed. Crossing to the other bedroom, he peered inside the half open door, discovering only one small person in the bed, when there should have been two. "Dee," he thought, "where are you?"

As soon as the words formed in his mind, he felt the champion's pull, and he followed it out the door of the loft, into the hallway, and up the stairs at the end. Opening the door at the top of the stairs, he found himself on the roof. Stepping out of the stairwell, he saw Diandra stretched out on her back on a quilt, her eyes closed, her hands folded across her stomach. He approached quietly, a little alarmed when she took no notice of his presence, but then he recognized the trance, and knew she was walking the spirit world. Confident that she would come back when she was ready, yet concerned she was vulnerable in that state, he sat down on the blanket beside her, keeping her company.

He must have sat there an hour or more, his leg starting to go to sleep, when her eyes opened, and she gave a heart-wrenching sob. Leaning over her, he pulled her into an embrace, murmuring reassurances to her, rocking her as she cried. He laid down with her on the blanket, pillowing her head on his shoulder, stroking her back, feeling her sobs turn to hiccups, and then finally to the slow, even breaths of sleep. 

Blair relaxed then, finally taking a moment to stare up at the stars overhead, watching the clouds roll in, wondering what she had seen that had upset her so. Whatever it was, he would get it out of her, get her to talk about it. He knew from experience that not sharing disturbing visions was asking for trouble. Tucking the end of the blanket around her, he closed his own eyes, slipping into a light doze.

It wasn't long before he felt her awaken. "Lobo?" she asked, "what are you doing here?" Raising up on one elbow, she looked down at him.

"Um, I got lonely?" he replied with a grin. "Seriously, I woke up, and you were gone. I followed your--I don't know what to call it-- your essence--up here. You were meditating, so I just waited, and when you came out of it, you were upset."

At his words, he saw a wave of sadness wash over her face. "I saw Lydia," she said softly. She didn't know how to explain what the Companion had told her, so she didn't try.

"That must have been hard," Blair said. "I know from what you've said, that you've missed her very much."

"It was," Dee said, lying down next to him again. "She said some things I'm still trying to make sense of."

Blair pulled her a little closer. "I never told you this, but I think I met her in a dream. She looks like Dana, doesn't she?"

Dee nodded, her chin rubbing his chest. "Yes, Lydia told me she'd sent you to me. And she does look a lot like Dana. Imagine how I felt when I met Dana. For a while, I thought Lydia had come back to me, but I was wrong. The resemblance is only skin deep."

Blair shivered at that, pondering meeting a Jim who wasn't really Jim, not where it counted. Changing the subject, he said lightly, "So, we gonna stay up here all night?"

Dee kissed his jaw softly. "It's almost morning, Lobo. Not much point in going to bed. And much as I like Dana, she is not my preferred bed partner."

"Is that a hint?" he asked, rolling them both over, so she was on her back with him leaning over her. Dipping his head down, he captured her lips with his own, feeling her respond to the kiss, her hands going around his back, sliding under his T-shirt, her fingers tracing his spine. Planting kisses across her cheek and down her neck, he pushed her tank top up, his hands stroking her sides as he nibbled and kissed his way down her chest and stomach. She yanked his shirt over his head, needing the sensation of skin on skin. With a low moan, she curled her fingers around the back of his neck, guiding him to the places desperately in need of kisses. A gentle tug on his hair moved him back over her, her blue eyes burning into his own. 

"I think," she said, her hands working at removing the rest of his clothes, "that it's my turn to be on top." With that, she tumbled him onto his back, her mouth and hands working in tandem to set him on fire. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware of the skies opening, and warm, fat raindrops kissing his skin, but all he could feel, all he could see, was the dark beauty over him, water glistening on her skin, her hands gripping his as she danced to an inner music, taking him with her on her heavenward flight.

*****

Jim lay on his back on the unfamiliar bed, the storm having woken him. Instinctively, he reached out for his partner's heartbeat to anchor him in this strange place. To his surprise, he found it several floors away instead of in the next room, its pounding rhythm nearly sending the sentinel after him, until he realized it was accompanied by low moans of pleasure, and the sweet nothings shared between two lovers. Rolling over onto his good side, he pulled the spare pillow over his head, trying without success to block out the sounds of what his heart felt was his guide's treason.

*****

When Dee and Blair finally made it back inside, they were both soaking wet. Not wanting to wake the others, as it was still an hour or so before dawn, they made their way to the dojo's laundry room, using the dryer to dry their clothes and the blanket, while they waited wrapped in towels. Once their things were dry, they went quietly back upstairs, and Blair settled back down on the sofa to get a couple hours rest. He was quickly joined by Dee, who whispered that Dana was taking her side of the bed out of the middle. Rolling onto his side, he made room for her, spooning up behind her and covering them both with the blanket. They were soon fast asleep.

*****

Jim was the first one up the next morning, and wasn't too surprised to walk out into the living room and discover Dee and Blair curled up together, given what he'd overheard the night before. Walking into the kitchen, he rummaged around in the cabinets and located the coffee. Once he'd started it brewing, he took another look at the sleeping pair. He had to admit they looked happy. Blair lay on his back, with Dee on her side next to him, her head on his shoulder and one arm draped over his chest. Blair's hand rested on her arm, and his cheek leaned against her hair, his expression relaxed. Dee's lips were curved in a tiny smile, and Jim again saw the sensual woman beneath the warrior's mask she had always presented to him. No wonder he and Blair had never seen eye to eye about her, if this is the way she was with Sandburg. It was almost as if they had been dealing with two different women. He watched as she snuggled closer to Blair, his arm tightening around her in reflex. Jim shook his head, and turned his attention back to the coffee maker. Deal with it, Ellison, he told himself. Put Blair's needs first for once in your life.

"Is that coffee I smell?" said a familiar voice from behind him. Turning, he found a disheveled Blair pushing his hair out of his eyes, a big grin on his face. 

"Yeah, Chief, it is." Pouring a cup for his partner, Jim reflected that maybe if he tried really hard, he could learn to tolerate Diandra for Blair's sake. A woman that could get Sandburg out of bed at 6 am in the morning and have him smiling about it might not be such a bad thing.

*****

"Come on, Dana! Keep your guard up!" Dee chastised her student. The sharp sound of steel meeting steel filled the dojo. She lunged under the younger woman's defense, and found herself rewarded with a kick to the stomach.

"There's a reason my guard was down, Dee, and that was it," Scully said with a smile. "Mulder taught me that move."

"Uh huh," Dee said, rubbing her ribs, "let's see you capitalize on that." She brought her katana down in a powerful overhead stroke, and the two Immortals were off again, their deadly ballet using most of the gym's floor.

Jim sat on a bench to the side, watching with interest. He'd always thought of fencing as kind of a sissy sport, but the way Immortals fought, it was more like no holds barred street fighting. At times both elegant and ugly, the two women combined kick boxing, swordplay, and cat fighting. He was suddenly glad he was mortal; he wasn't sure how long he would last in a Game where the only rule appeared to be survive at any cost.

The door at the end of the dojo opened, and Mulder and Blair entered, having departed on some mysterious errand immediately after breakfast. Mulder carried a large binder under his right arm, but otherwise appeared no different than when he had left earlier. Blair must have tagged along just to keep him company as he was empty handed. The two men, upon spying Jim, headed in his direction, taking a wide path around the sparring women.

With a final clash of swords, the dueling Immortals ended their bout, and walked over to join the three men. "Okay, Mulder, spill it," Scully said. "What vitally important, yet obscure thing have you dug up this time?" She gestured to the notebook.

"I have here, courtesy of Joe Dawson, my own personal copy of 'What Every Watcher Needs to Know'." He couldn't keep the grin from lighting up his face.

"Mulder, don't tell me you actually joined the Watchers!"

"Yep, got my own tattoo and everything." Holding out his left arm, he peeled back a gauze bandage, revealing a blue circle around a stylized "V". "Who better to document the exploits of Dana Scully, Immortal, than the person who spends the most time with her? Besides, this way I can selectively edit my reports, and we don't have to worry about some innocent Watcher stumbling over some of our government's best kept secrets."

Scully was speechless. "I-- Mulder, I don't know what to say," she finally managed.

Dee elbowed her in the ribs. "Say 'thank you', Dana."

"Um, thanks, Mulder, I think. How detailed are these reports supposed to be anyway? I'd like to retain some privacy around you!"

"Okay, children, that's enough!" Dee said, clapping her hands. "You can all look at Mulder's tattoo later. Right now it's time for a little demonstration. Blair?" Turning her sword over to Dana, she grabbed two staffs, tossing one to Blair. "I think it's time Jim knew what we've been working on." Stepping out into the middle of the floor, she moved to a ready position, the staff held in a relaxed grip.

With a glance over his shoulder at Jim, Blair followed her, hoping he wouldn't screw up and embarrass himself in front of his partner. He had a few awkward moments at first, then he had to stop thinking about Jim, and focus on Dee's fast and furious attack. His body fell into the familiar rhythm, and soon he was matching her blow for blow, their sparring quickly encompassing most of the room. 

His heart in his throat, Jim watched the pair intently, certain each time Diandra brought the staff around she was going to seriously injure his guide. To his amazement, Blair met her parry for parry, lunge for lunge. In fact, if Jim didn't know better, he would say the anthropologist had the upper hand. Just as that thought passed through his mind, Blair caught the end of Dee's staff with his own, forcing it down. A snap kick to her already unbalanced pole sent it flying out of her hands. The look of surprise on her face was priceless, and Jim guessed that was the first time the Immortal had been relieved of her weapon in years. Recovering from her shock, a smile spread across her face, and she applauded. "Well done, Lobo! Well done!"

Blair flushed under her praise, but Jim could tell he was proud of himself. Rising from his seat, Jim approached him, thumping him on the back affectionately. "You did good, Sandburg," he told him.

"Thanks, Jim," he replied. Much as he valued Diandra's opinion, the one that really mattered was his partner's. "You're not mad or anything, are you?" he asked.

Jim shook his head. "No, anything that keeps you safe is fine with me." He ruffled the younger man's hair. "Come on, Chief. I'll take you all out to lunch, my treat." At those words, there was a mad dash for the showers.

*****

Diandra unlocked the door to apartment 308 and stepped inside. She had had such high hopes after returning from Seacouver two weeks ago. There were no more secrets; everything was out in the open. Ellison knew all there was to know about her. She had hoped that knowing her better would change his feelings for her, but it hadn't. Oh, he was trying, she could tell, but it was a tremendous effort for him, having another Sentinel living across the hall. Maybe there really was something to the neutral ground thing, but short of making the apartment building a colony of Switzerland, it wasn't going to work in Cascade.

School had started up the week before, and both she and Blair had been incredibly busy, so much so that they hadn't spent much time together outside of an occasional lunch at the university. It was just as well, if he knew what she was doing, he would try and talk her out of it. She glanced around the loft. Almost everything personal was already gone; all that remained was the furniture. 

Her hearing picked up the arrival of the elevator at the end of the hall. Opening the door, she saw Blair getting off. Now was as good a time as any, she guessed, not that there was ever a good time for what she was about to do. "Hi, Lobo," she said, as he reached his door. "We need to talk."

Blair turned toward her, taking in her tired eyes. "Hey," he said softly, stepping across the hallway and giving her a hug. "I'm sorry I haven't seen much of you lately. I've really missed you."

Dee hugged him back tightly, blinking away the tears she felt welling up. "I've missed you too, Lobo," she breathed. Goddess, this was so hard. "Come on inside." Taking him by the hand, she led him into her apartment.

He took one look around, and turned to face her, pain and confusion in his eyes. "Dee," he said, his voice shaking, "what's going on?"

"I'm sorry, Lobo, but I'm leaving. I'm moving back to Seacouver." There, she'd said it. She braced herself for the storm.

Blair's expression became even more uncertain. "You're... leaving?" he asked. "Just like that, pack up your things and blow, huh? Must be nice not to have to worry about all the money you spent fixing this place up, or quitting your job... "

"I'm not quitting my job, and I'm not giving up this apartment. I'm just moving back to Seacouver, that's all." Damn it, this was not going well.

"So it's me, then. You finally came to your senses and realized a three thousand year old Immortal could never be happy with a thirty year old mortal anthropologist. I mean really, what could I possibly offer you? You've been everywhere, done everything... you needed me to be your surrogate companion, but now that the crisis has passed you don't need me anymore." His voice was bitter.

"No! Lobo! That's not what I--damn it, Lobo, I love you! I love you more than I've loved anyone, anyone since Lydia. You are everything to me... and that's why I have to leave." There was no holding the tears back now, and they spilled down her cheeks.

"If you love me, Dee, then you won't leave me," he said, automatically reaching for her, wanting to take away her pain.

She leaned into his embrace, burying her face in his loose hair, inhaling his scent, feeling his hands stroking her back. "Please, Dee," he whispered, "please, whatever it is we can work it out. I love you so much--"

Shaking her head, she said, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I can't stay. I... " How could she tell him? How could she tell him she was leaving because of Jim, and not have him blame the other man for his heartache? "Blair, when we were in Seacouver, and I took my spirit walk, I didn't tell you everything Lydia said. She told me that sometimes duty has to come before love. I didn't want to believe it at the time, but now I see she was telling me the truth. My champion abilities aren't going away. I made a choice to accept them, and now I have to face the consequences of that decision. Those consequences include finding my own companion, Blair, and my own territory to protect. Cascade already has its own Sentinel and Guide pair. I'm just... redundant."

"Dee," he said seriously, "you could never be redundant. You are an original."

"Yeah, well, my presence here is not helping Jim do his job any better. I'm keeping him from his duty, by being an irritant, a distraction. I've heard him walking the floors at night, Lobo, and you have too. Please, Blair, please, understand I'm leaving because I love you, not because I've stopped loving you."

Blair looked into her eyes, and couldn't deny the truth he saw there. "Dee, I... " He had no words to express his feelings, so he kissed her, pouring all his love, all his heart into the touch of his lips against hers. When they parted, he leaned his forehead against hers. "You'll keep in touch won't you? I mean, we'll still be friends, right?"

"Always," she breathed, pressing her lips against his brow. Stepping back, she took a deep breath, and collected herself. "I have something I want you to have." Digging through a carton on the dining room table, she produced a small box. "Open it," she said, handing it to him.

Blair took the box, and lifted the lid. Inside was a braided leather hair tie, the clasp an intricately carved silver wolf's head, two bright blue stones for its eyes. "Dee... " he said softly, incredibly touched. "This is a work of art."

"I found it at one of those Native American galleries downtown." Taking the tie from him, she said, "Here, let me."

He turned his back to her, feeling her fingers comb through his hair, gathering it into a ponytail, fastening the tie around it. The movements were so familiar, ones he did every day, but her touch made it overwhelmingly intimate, and the thought that he would never feel her hands in his hair again sent a dagger through his heart. He couldn't do this, it was too hard. When he turned around, he saw the moment had affected her too, and he hugged her again, one last time.

"Never forget you are loved, Lobo," she whispered.

"As are you," he replied. 

With nothing more to say, Blair left her, crossing the hall to the loft he shared with Jim. The sentinel looked up from the TV program he was watching as his roommate entered. "You're home early for a change," he said. "I haven't started dinner yet. I was thinking about ordering in. Chinese okay, Chief?"

"I'm not really hungry," Blair replied, dropping his backpack by the door. He stopped by the kitchen table, leaning on it for support as his body suddenly felt numb. 

"That a new hair tie, Chief?" Jim asked innocently, and Blair felt like his whole world had suddenly crumbled around him. He sank into a chair, silent sobs shaking his body. Jim was at his side in an instant, his arm around the younger man's shoulders. "Blair? What is it, what's wrong?"

"Dee's leaving... " he finally managed, and he felt the other man pull him into a hug, not saying anything, just being there for him.

When he had finally pulled himself together, Blair walked out onto the balcony, and watched the sunset. Jim gave him some time alone, then joined him. "You really loved her, didn't you?" he said.

Blair nodded. "I really do," he replied, "I just don't think it was meant to be."

Jim gave his shoulder a squeeze. "I'm going to go order that Chinese, okay? You come in when you're ready."

"Yeah, okay. Jim," he said, as the sentinel turned to go inside, "thanks, for not saying 'I told you so'."

"Hey, I can be sensitive too, you know," was the detective's reply. He went back into the loft.

Blair leaned on the balcony railing, knowing that even though they were apart he and Diandra would always be connected. Perhaps it was better he had never gotten to tell her his news. His left arm itched, and he scratched it, then pushed up his sleeve and unwound the gauze wrapped around his wrist. In the fading light from the setting sun, he could still make out the bright blue ink of the distinctive "V" surrounded by a circle.

Finis


End file.
